


Agent 04

by smittenbritain, Waffle-o (XylB)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Tenga Eggs, Trans Male Character, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/smittenbritain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/Waffle-o
Summary: The ICA is a multinational, well-funded criminal organization independent of the world's governments that provides assassination and mercenary services. Agents 76 and 88 (AKA Gavin Free and Ryan Haywood) are two of the most skilled and expensive assets the ICA offers. It's no surprise that they're tasked with training up the newest promising recruit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a collab on a PWP, maybe a couple chapters long, but then plot happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Regardless, I'm excited as fuck to be writing something with TJ. I can't put into words how much I've come to appreciate him since joining the RT Writers Discord, he's absolutely brilliant and an angel for putting up with me and all of this plot we stumbled upon. <3

Ryan takes one step into his tiny office before he sighs.

God damn it, Gavin.

He dumps his bag in a clear spot of floor by the chair. The place is littered with abandoned Red Bull cans and paper coffee cups, scattered here and there across the desk and the floor in equal measure. Some look like he’s made an effort to throw them away judging by the couple sitting by the bin, but the rest?

That asshole just left them by the keyboard, the monitors, just like he usually did. Ryan took care to clean up any of his mess before it was Gavin’s turn in here, but the younger man wasn’t known for showing the same awareness.

Well, not in the office, anyway. In the field, Gavin is a force to be reckoned with, impressing Ryan and the ICA every time with how smoothly he pulls off his missions. He picks up on little things that Ryan would have probably missed, and somehow manages to bend the situation to his will. It’s incredible to behold when he’s tucked away in the office, talking in Gavin’s ear and hacking into cameras to guide him. Most of the time, Ryan just ends up watching instead of giving him many tips.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. When he pulls it out, he sees Gavin’s name on the screen.

Attached to the simple, excited exclamation of Ryan’s own name is a selfie - not very subtle for a world-renowned hitman, Ryan thinks, but brushes the criticism aside in favour of admiring it. Gavin would have made it to Paris earlier that morning if his math is right, and now he’s standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, looking as put together as he always does.

It’s unfair, Ryan thinks, that he gets to enjoy bright, beautiful Paris - especially while looking like that - while Ryan gets to sit in the gloomy, messy, paper-covered office.

He takes a minute to reply, sitting down at his desk and stacking up the rubbish Gavin left in a poor replica of the Eiffel Tower. He snaps a picture of that to send back to Gavin, and then puts his phone aside. He doubts it’ll be the only photo he gets from Gavin; in Paris, it’s only just approaching the evening, so he doesn’t have to get ready for his mission just yet. He’s got a couple of hours before he needs to prepare.

Ryan, on the other hand, has work to do.

While his computer boots up, he pulls a file out of his bag and slaps it onto the desk next to the keyboard. Stamped across the front is a bunch of numbers and letters making up the codename for the job, but Ryan doesn’t much care for those details.

He flips it open, turning pages as the computer whirrs to life.

It’s instantly familiar. He’s read this already - had done so with Gavin, before he’d flown out - but it’s the little things. Most of the file is clinical, stating the target, the location, any complications their field agent might need to know about before setting out. There’s never much of a personal touch for any case they’re given - but there’s always something.

There’s little mannerisms - little connections that he and Gavin have put together. The Shadow Client, as they’ve affectionately dubbed them, has always sent them after people deep in the world of crime.

In itself, that’s not an unusual thing. Sometimes, good people who need to take care of bad people come to the ICA. Those kinds of contracts make up the majority of their clientele.

Something’s different here, though. Ryan has tried to bounce ideas off of Gavin but, predictably, his partner cares more for their job than about the reasons why. It’s not a terrible perspective to have, considering the politically neutral stance the Agency takes; it saves a lot of headaches in the long run.

Still, it’s not often that a client doesn’t leave their name. Ryan can’t help noticing too that every target for the Shadow Client seems to have deeper than usual roots in the criminal lifestyle.

Rather than linger on it, Ryan turns himself back to his computer, now humming and bright and waiting for him. He flexes his fingers, opens up a couple of programs, and gets to work.

* * *

Paris at night is stunning, Gavin thinks. Of course, it helps that a beautiful museum sprawls before him, glowing with floodlights to lead the way up the red carpet and inside. He can already hear the thumping music spilling out through the open front doors; the fashion show must have already started. If he has time, Gavin promises himself that he’ll take a look.

Nobody blinks an eye as he slips inside. Clad in a smart black suit with its signature red tie, Gavin blends in amongst the other well dressed attendees. It’s always nice when he can dress up and walk right in.

His earpiece crackles to life. _“Alright,”_ Ryan says, shuffling papers, _“the first floor is pretty open, only a couple areas you need to-”_

“Ground or first?”

Ryan is silent for a moment. _“What?”_

Gavin purses his lips. “Ground floor or first floor?” he repeats, muttering out of the corner of his mouth.

He struggles not to smile when he hears Ryan’s exasperated sigh. _“The one on the bottom.”_

“So the basement? I know there’s an underground-”

_“The floor you’re on right now!”_

Gavin bites the inside of his cheek hard, biting back snickers. “No need to get snippy, love.”

Ryan exhales hard, and Gavin snorts anyway. _“The floor you’re on is pretty clear,”_ he continues. _“You only need to watch out for a couple of areas. Guests can wander most of the grounds and main areas without a problem, by the looks of things.”_

“Mm. Any suggestions on how to get a better look around?” He starts to wander, neatly stepping through the crowd to make his way further in. He’s already spotted the catwalk, and he’s drawn towards it, curious enough to take a look while he and Ryan come up with a plan.

_“Not yet. I can do some more digging while you look around.”_

The click of Ryan’s keyboard is a comforting undertone to the heavy music pumping out of the speakers. With one last longing look at the catwalk, Gavin sets off again, back to weaving between people to get the lay of the land. He doesn’t know where his target is just yet, but he can get an idea of what disguises will get him behind the scenes.

Naturally, security is always a good option - though Gavin’s pretty sure he can see some bodyguards lingering out in the grounds, so the standard museum level won’t get him very far. General staff is pretty nice too; people don’t usually pay much attention to a janitor or waiter, but it’s unlikely that’ll let him far enough to even see the target, let alone get close enough to do anything.

This isn’t even taking into account _where_ the target is. Before Gavin can make a solid plan, he needs an idea of their location, and unfortunately it doesn’t look like he’ll get to snipe anyone this time around.

The earpiece buzzes to life again just as Gavin’s finishing a lazy, meandering circuit of the bar. _“Okay, so the target’s upstairs, so you’re probably gonna have to find a disguise you can use.”_

Gavin hums with quiet discontent. “Just got this suit earlier today, now I’m gonna have to leave it in a dusty corner.”

 _“You can get another when you come home,”_ Ryan says dismissively. He’s got a point, but Gavin doesn’t have to like it. _“Staff will get you up one floor, but past that you’ll have to sneak or get a bodyguard outfit. Probably the latter, I think the target’s waiting for some kind of meeting.”_

“Aw, weak,” Gavin sighs, heading out into a corridor.

It’s emptier here, though there are still guests and various tech crew lingering around. With how distracted everyone is, Gavin has no trouble slipping through a door so he can head upstairs. It’ll be easier to find just the one disguise he needs instead of constantly changing, even with the risk of wandering into areas that a regular guest shouldn’t.

As he makes his way along the upper floor, Ryan keeps watch for him through the security cameras. When Gavin passes, it’s easy for Ryan to simply delete the data and loop the footage, leaving no recorded trace that he was ever there. Despite being thousands of miles away, Ryan’s presence feels very real even with just his voice in Gavin’s ear; it’s the kind of comforting reminder that keeps his heartbeat slow and his breathing steady as he tracks down a lone bodyguard.

 _“Bet you could knock him out with that wrench you picked up,”_ Ryan says, helpfully.

Gavin stifles a snort. He knows Ryan’s watching - he can see the security camera on the corner focused on him - so he levels it with a grin and a shake of his head.

Ryan’s not done goading him, though. _“Nobody else is around, you can totally nail him in the back of the head with it.”_

He can’t really argue back, not when he’s this close to a witness, so Gavin glares at the camera this time with his finger pressed to his lips. Quietly, Ryan laughs in his ear.

Gavin _does_ indulge him, though. The wrench hits the bodyguard with a satisfying smack, and sends the poor guy tumbling to the ground, out cold. Once Gavin’s dragged him out of sight and hidden him in a nearby bathroom, he pulls on the suit - it’s not all that different from the one he was wearing anyway, he realises, but it’s also not a bad fit. If he can get out without being compromised, it’s worth keeping, for sure.

From there, it’s a simple case of getting upstairs and into the target’s room. Gavin moves with purpose, acting like he belongs, so the other bodyguards don’t even bat an eyelid despite him not really fitting in too well.

The target is, surprisingly, alone in the little office. For such a grandiose building, this room is relatively small in comparison, just two couches, a coffee table, and a desk furnishing it.

Gavin’s sure that Ryan told him the target’s name, but he doesn’t much care for the details. He knows the casefile they’re given contains all those things and more, stuff like who they are and what they do - stuff that Gavin never pays attention to. The ICA tries to remain strictly neutral anyway, so Gavin never reads much of the personal parts if he can avoid it. Why bother loading up on information he doesn’t need?

He remembers that this man has ties to a gang somehow. Gavin doesn’t recall if he merely funds criminal activity, or if he’s an active participant.

He does know that this is for the Shadow Client and, well, if the Shadow Client cares about gang politics, that’s up to them. Fair play to them, Gavin thinks, if they want to spend money to influence the outcome of some kind of private war. It doesn’t matter who wins in the end because Gavin and Ryan still get paid, and they get to carry on doing what they do best.

“Be useful and pour a glass of wine,” the target says, waving a hand towards the desk distractedly. He stands at the window, peering out across the museum grounds.

With a polite nod, Gavin heads over to the desk. He breaks the seal on the bottle of red and pours a modest amount into one of the glasses sitting nearby. Carefully, he takes a little plastic bottle out of his pocket and tips the clear, lethal contents into the alcohol. Briefly, it clouds up the centre where it pools before it dissipates.

His expression neutral, his heart pounding despite Ryan’s silent presence, Gavin offers it to the target. “Sir,” he says, passing it over.

Once the man takes a sip, Gavin breathes again. He doesn’t have time to thank Gavin for the drink.

* * *

By the time Gavin’s stepping out of the bathroom, it’s well after midnight. Paris at night is even more beautiful, he realises, staring out his window with a little smile. From his hotel room, he can see the Eiffel Tower again in all its glory, glowing like a beacon in the night.

It’s too perfect to _not_ take another selfie in front of it.

 _Especially_ when he’s fresh out of the shower.

He fiddles with the lighting in his room a little first, eventually settling on the warm glow of the bedside lamp next to the window. Then, looking entirely too smug, he snaps another picture with the Eiffel Tower in the background and enough of himself in frame to tease at the fact that he’s naked. Gavin only needs a couple of attempts before he’s satisfied, and he sends the picture off to Ryan before flopping onto his bed, stretching out to relax after an evening’s hard work.

Ryan’s reply takes a minute, but when his phone buzzes, Gavin eagerly scoops it up from the pillow. At first, when he sees what took Ryan so long, he laughs - he’s built a terrible tower of cans again, this time diet coke ones with the familiar sight of their living room in the background. It makes Gavin ache for home, just a little bit.

And then he realises that _Ryan_ is naked too, and he aches in a completely different way.

“Bastard,” Gavin mutters, tearing his gaze away from the photo to press Ryan’s name in his contacts. In the corner of the picture, as if to match Gavin’s hinting, Ryan had included the teasing image of his legs stretched out along the couch and his hand around his dick. “Bastard!” Gavin repeats when his partner picks up. “ _Ryan_ , don’t be such a _tease_ , Ryan!”

He just laughs, low and warm, sending shivers down Gavin’s spine. _“Well, then you’ll have to wait until you get home, won’t you?”_

Gavin shifts a little on the bed, rocking back against it at the first telltale tingle in his groin. He recognises that tone in Ryan’s voice. “You can’t just send me that and then not have phone sex!”

_“When I said you’ll have to wait, I meant you won’t be touching yourself.”_

His breath rushes out of his lungs with a shaky, “Oh.”

There’s some rustling on the other end, and then a sigh as Ryan presumably settles back into the couch again. The pop of a cap is too loud over the phone - Ryan’s groan and the slick noise of him spreading lube along his cock is even louder. Gavin tangles his free hand in the sheets, gripping so tight that his knuckles pale with the effort of not sliding a hand between his legs.

“Ryan,” he breathes.

 _“Mm,”_ Ryan hums. It’s a wonderful kind of torture to listen to, and it has Gavin’s imagination running wild as he closes his eyes and indulges the arousal brewing in his stomach. He can picture Ryan dragging his fist slowly along his length, drawing it out just because he can. _“You did good today.”_

Gavin squirms, digging his heels into the bed as he rocks his hips into nothing. “If I was good then why can’t I-”

_“What, you don’t want a reward when you get home?”_

He bites his lip hard, pressing his thighs together just to relieve some of the ache. “Ryan, please…”

The Ryan in his mind’s eye quickens his strokes in time with the wet noise of him jerking off across the phone. It sends hot sparks along Gavin’s nerves and leaves him slick without even touching himself.

 _“You looked so good in those suits, fuck,”_ Ryan hisses between his teeth. Gavin pictures him arching up into his own hand, too impatient now to sit there and let it dictate the pace. His knees knock together as he bites back a whimper. _“You’d better be wearing one when you get home, just so we can ruin it.”_

The ache is near unbearable, but still Gavin doesn’t touch himself. He screws his eyes shut, both ignoring and basking in the hot swirl of pure want in his gut, even though he knows it’s only going to make things worse. His free hand skates down his side, phone abandoned next to his ear now as he resists the desire to touch himself anyway.

And yet. “Ryan, can I-”

 _“Not yet,”_ Ryan grits out. Gavin whines, his hand falling back to the mattress again, reluctant but obedient. _“When you’re home, it’ll be worth it, we can- ah!”_

Ryan’s relieved groan is so familiar to Gavin by now. It sends a flood of arousal through him, his thighs slick as his own breath stutters in his chest as Ryan comes on the other end of the phone. And still, Gavin burns hot with need, but he doesn’t dare disobey Ryan. Usually, his patience is rewarded.

As Ryan’s panting slows, his partner lets out a low, content hum. _“I love you,”_ Ryan murmurs.

A different kind of warmth fizzles in Gavin’s chest. He can’t help smiling. “Love you, too.”

_“See you when you get home, Gav.”_

“What? Wait-”

The bastard hangs up on him.

Gavin thumps a fist to the mattress in frustration. It’s just like Ryan to get him all worked up and then not get him off. He knows he could just work it out himself anyway, but… well, Ryan never gave him permission. It’s entirely possible it’s a long play to make him actually wait until he gets back to America.

Grumbling, Gavin sinks down under the covers and decides not to acknowledge the lingering burn in his lower stomach. He switches the lamp off and curls up, fully intending to sleep it off and pounce on Ryan the moment he sees him. As far as Gavin’s concerned, though, Ryan doesn’t get a goodnight text after teasing him so harshly.

His phone vibrates against the bedside table a few minutes later, waking him out of his doze with a start.

Of course it’s Ryan. Gavin almost doesn’t read it just to be petty, but his curiosity gets the better of him, as it always does. He unlocks his phone with his thumbprint, too lazy for the code, and taps on the unread text.

 **[GoldenRye]** ;) You can go ahead.

Gavin’s barely read the text before he shoves his hand under the covers, between his legs like he’s been aching to, while the hand fumbles with his phone. He rubs his cock in quick, tight circles, and he comes sharp and quick over his fingers, choking out a whimpering moan. The intensity of it coupled with the tiring day leaves him pleasantly exhausted as he sinks back into the mattress again.

And if he records a cheeky little audio clip as he comes, then Ryan doesn’t need to know until he wakes up the next morning, when Gavin keeps the teasing game going on his way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay _cracks knuckles_ I don't think Smittenbritain realises how delighted I am to be writing with them - I've adored their works for _months_ , they've always been an inspiration to me and I am immeasurably glad I get to talk and write with them almost every damn day. You're amazing. <3 <3 
> 
> (Also, just in case - Gavin's the trans one in this.)

Two sharp knocks at the door attract Ryan’s attention, saving him from the afternoon doze he was dangerously close to slipping into, drowsy from idle boredom and drawn-out anticipation. He glances lazily up at the wood and turns off the TV from the remote, stifling a yawn before he pushes himself up to pad to the doorway, his socks quiet against the smooth hardwood floor. 

The bolt barely squeaks when Ryan nudges it open, although the chain makes a racket as usual, and he peeks obligingly through the peephole to confirm that is indeed the only person it could be before opening the door properly. 

“I see you dressed up for me,” Gavin jokes with a glance at Ryan’s T-shirt-and-sweatpants - Ryan scoffs and hooks an arm around Gavin’s waist to drag him in for a kiss before he even greets him, easily stepping them back into the flat and pausing only to shut the door and pin Gavin up against it. The hand Gavin sinks into his hair reawakens some of the lazy arousal slogging through his veins, a pleasant buzz in his bones. 

“You’re eager,” Gavin comments, his tongue poking out enough to brush against Ryan’s lips. Instead of a snarky reply, Ryan simply smirks, renewed energy making him bold. 

“I see you obliged,” he says, smoothing his hands down the sides of Gavin’s perfectly fitted suit jacket. Always does wear a suit well, Gavin. 

“Of course,” Gavin replies, cupping Ryan’s cheek to kiss him again. “You asked so politely.” 

“Mhmm,” Ryan hums, bringing a hand up to cover the one on his cheek, gently squeezing Gavin’s fingers. 

Before they can get any further, Ryan pulls back, taking a moment to just revel in the warmth of Gavin, the physical reminder that he’s  _ here _ and he’s  _ safe _ , that his heartbeat is steady under the palm Ryan plants on his chest and his breathing is even, if a little quickened. Gavin smiles at him and Ryan’s chest tightens in a little burst of happiness, his own smile surely slanting towards dopey as he reaches up to deftly unclasp his thin silver necklace. The ring on it slithers off to land neatly in his palm, clinking lightly against his matching band. 

Ryan carefully takes Gavin’s right hand in his and gently guides the ring on, over the faint tan line on his ring finger, now faded from his week in the Parisian sun. Just the sight of that familiar silver on skin settles something in Ryan, something that rears its ugly head whenever one of them goes out in the field, of  _ what-if _ s and  _ could-be _ s that keep him up later than he’d like to admit. 

Before Ryan can dwell too much on sentimentality, Gavin flexes his fingers and links them with Ryan’s, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth that melts the oddly fragile moment back into something sweeter, more on track with the tension thick between them from last night and from all the damn teasing Gavin’s been up to. 

“Did you enjoy my little morning greeting?” Gavin asks, smiling cheekily. Ryan hums in agreement and shifts to kiss his scruffy jaw. 

“Did you get off to it?” Gavin continues, his fingers curling in Ryan’s hair. Ryan growls against his skin and nips at his neck, shoving him harder against the door to fit their hips together. 

“Waited for you,” Ryan grunts, hooking a finger in Gavin’s belt loops to grind against him and show him  _ exactly _ how pent-up he is, the lazy arousal from this morning simmering hot once more. Gavin gasps out a little  _ o-oh _ and Ryan bites harder at his neck, sucking up a deliberate bruise that a collar won’t hide. Good thing they’ve got a few days off. 

“Wasn’t lying about the suit, by the way,” Ryan says, kissing over the mark before brushing his lips back up to Gavin’s ear. “Gonna  _ ruin _ it.” 

“God,  _ Ryan _ \- ” Gavin cuts off with a buck of his hips, groaning low in his throat when Ryan rocks with him, right into the soft bulge of silicone. Gavin coughs out a laugh and dives in for messy kisses to Ryan’s jaw, his other hand flying up to clutch at his shirt. 

“Haven’t even shown you the souvenirs I got you,” he pants. “Got a little shitty keyring an’ everythin’.” 

“Of course you did,” Ryan says with a happy little chuckle, burying his face against Gavin’s neck to nip lazily at his skin.  

“Tacky sort of Eiffel Tower thing, it is.” 

“Oh I’ll show  _ you _ an Eiffel Tower,” Ryan growls playfully, grinding forward just as Gavin’s head tips back with a bright giggle, his shoulders shaking under Ryan. 

“Well you’re all talk and no action, aren’t you?” He teases. “Thought you mentioned something about  _ ruining _ \- ” 

Ryan cuts off that sentence by tugging Gavin away from the door, catching his mouth in a fiercer, hotter kiss as he smoothly backs them up, only barely tripping over the entrance rug as he tears his mouth from Gavin’s to guide them to the bedroom, his fingers  _ itching _ to tuck under Gavin’s waistband, ruck up his neat dress shirt and splay his hands over  _ all _ of him. 

Gavin grasps at him almost  _ immediately _ after his back hits the bed, drawing Ryan down with him and greedily grabbing at his arms, his shoulders, trying to tug at the hem of his shirt and whimpering when Ryan tuts and shakes his head, gathering Gavin’s wrists in one hand to pin them above his head. 

“Nah, you’ll keep those  _ right _ there,” Ryan says, dropping another plush kiss to Gavin’s mouth to soothe him. 

“But it’s been  _ ages _ , Ryan,” Gavin whines, keeping his wrists crossed nonetheless. “Just wanna touch you.” 

“And you will,” Ryan promises, settling between the splay of Gavin’s legs and grinning when Gavin’s hips roll up to meet his. “Promised a reward, didn’t I?” 

Gavin nods, eyes wide and dark with arousal as Ryan casually thumbs open the top button on his shirt, humming with approval as he slowly exposes more and more of Gavin’s chest. 

“And I’m not in the habit of breaking promises,” Ryan continues, leaning in to kiss Gavin’s throat, soft brushes of lips over scruffy skin, down to the hollow of it, over his collarbone. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Gavin breathes softly, his hips rocking up again when Ryan pushes his unbuttoned shirt open, letting the cloth fall to his sides and pool around him as his mouth continues its way down his chest. 

“Good,” Ryan praises, kissing lightly over hair and running his hands down Gavin’s sides in parallel, thumbs stroking along the soft skin of his abdomen, the bare beginnings of his hipbones until skin turns to rough cloth and lips hit the cool metal of Gavin’s belt buckle. Gavin wriggles a little under the hot touches, biting his lip and groaning when Ryan glances up at him, pleased by the sight of Gavin so undone above him, laid out  _ for _ him and oh-so-willing that it makes Ryan’s cock throb in his sweats. 

Ryan grins against Gavin’s navel, drops a kiss to his happy trail before unbuckling his belt, encouraging Gavin’s hips up a little to tug it from the loops. Spit pools under Ryan’s tongue in a bad Pavlovian response to the quiet hiss of leather on cloth. He deftly pops the button with his thumb, pulls apart the flaps of Gavin’s fly to nuzzle against the zip and catch the zipper between his teeth - Gavin moans and watches, eagle-eyed, as Ryan eases his fly open, yanks the trousers down enough to expose Gavin. He ghosts his lips over the packer on his way back up, meeting Gavin’s eyes with a wicked smirk before he plants a series of indulgent kisses just above the line of Gavin’s briefs, drags his thumbs over the spurs of Gavin’s hips and chuckles at the quiet, gasping moan that leaves Gavin. 

“Help me out here?” Ryan asks before straightening to kneel, gesturing to Gavin’s shoes to silently ask him to kick them off while Ryan fiddles with the underwear and the packer, clumsily rearranges their bodies to get the clothes out of the way in an untidy pile on the floor. 

Once resettled, Ryan dances his fingers up the back of Gavin’s knee and Gavin laughs, lightly kicking Ryan’s side in retaliation. 

Ryan pauses. 

Bites his lip. 

Repeats the move and can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him when Gavin squeals and writhes, trying to escape the touch and his other leg reflexively slamming to Ryan’s side. His hands clench into fists and his kicking doesn’t deter Ryan’s antics one bit, nor the way he runs a hand up Gavin’s ribs to tickle him there as well, up to his underarms to draw more wheezing giggles from Gavin while he thrashes, tears sparkling in his eyes. 

“ _ Tickles _ ,” Gavin squeaks out eventually, panting desperately for air between happy bursts of laughter and swiping uselessly at Ryan’s hands, far too weak to be effective. 

When Gavin’s so genuinely near tears and flushed from boisterous laughter, Ryan has mercy, changing his tickling to stroking his palms up Gavin’s thighs, soothing him while he leans over to kiss his cheek, his lips, laugh with him when Gavin lifts a hand to playfully flick his ear.  

“Bastard,” Gavin chuckles. 

“Love you,” Ryan snickers, giggling against Gavin’s neck when Gavin sighs. 

“Yeah, love you too,” Gavin murmurs. “Now get the hell on with it, will you?” 

“Impatient.” 

Instead of a response, Gavin huffs good-naturedly and pushes him away with another kiss, his hand dropping back to join the other above his head. Ryan hums happily and drags his lips down Gavin’s neck again, taking a moment to worsen the hickey he left earlier before scooting back to settle on his elbows between Gavin’s legs, gently nudging open his thighs. Gavin coughs out a little aroused noise and Ryan resumes his slow path of kisses, brushing them over the tendon from hip-to-thigh, across the smooth expanse of Gavin’s inner thighs, back up to his happy trail and following that back down to the real interesting parts. 

Ryan pauses before he gets his mouth any closer, deliberately puffs out a breath over Gavin’s dick to make him jerk and whimper; Ryan glances up to check Gavin’s wrists are still down - they are - and purrs a quiet  _ Good boy _ as he presses his lips to him. 

Gavin’s hips jolt up so abruptly it startles Ryan, but he recovers quickly enough to gently pin Gavin down, easing his thumbs in to spread Gavin a touch before making it filthy, dragging the wide flat of his tongue over Gavin’s cock and groaning when Gavin  _ twitches _ against him. 

Despite the hold, Gavin’s still fidgety under him, rocking up as much as he can and these soft little moans leaving him with every hot sweep of Ryan’s tongue, louder when he swirls it around Gavin, higher when he narrows it to a point and teases the sensitive underside. The hint of teeth he tries makes Gavin arch up and groan, his fingers balling into fists when Ryan does it again, seals his lips around his dick and rapidly flicks his tongue over it, moans when Gavin’s thighs clamp around his head and this time he doesn’t push them open, lets Gavin grind up against his mouth as much as he likes. 

Ryan pops off panting, replaces his tongue with his thumb and rubs in firm circles as Gavin trembles, hips bucking up in an erratic rhythm that Ryan does his best to follow. Now he urges Gavin’s thighs open, making room for himself as he dives back in to run his tongue down lower, lapping at Gavin’s hole and rutting instinctively against the sheets when Gavin moans loudly, clenching up automatically and  _ writhing _ again when Ryan works his tongue  _ in _ , thick and hot and hopefully fast enough to match the furious pace of his thumb only millimeters above, his nail nudging against his nose on every pass. 

“Please, please -  _ ah _ , Ryan - ” 

Ryan doesn’t answer that with any coherent noise, moans unabashedly against Gavin and withdraws his thumb to get back to sucking him off, noisy and wet and completely uncaring of the drool that runs down his chin while Gavin whines and bucks up, his wrists thumping against the pillow and eyes scrunched shut when Ryan dares to look up. 

Something akin to a whimper but much more broken tears out of Gavin when he comes, his leg kicking out beside Ryan and abdomen crunching up reflexively, his thighs trembling either side of Ryan’s head. The shaking gets worse when Ryan continues, sucking eagerly and only pulling off to delve lower and lap up the come that seeps out. 

As Gavin’s breath breaks into shuddery panting, Ryan switches back to his thumb to ease Gavin back down, cleaning him up with his tongue while Gavin wiggles and moans weakly above him, hot and oversensitive. He whimpers pitifully, lifting his head to look at Ryan, and Ryan surges up to hover over him, wiping his chin on his arm before finally kissing Gavin, slow and deep like he’s been longing to since Gavin walked in. 

“Ryan - ” Gavin starts, but Ryan’s already two steps ahead of him. 

“You can touch,” he says, delving into the next kiss with a rough moan as Gavin’s hands fly to him, stroking over his shoulders, his abdomen, palms shoving up under his shirt to rake his nails down Ryan’s ribs and make him flush even hotter, sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. 

“Off,” Gavin grunts, tugging impatiently on Ryan’s shirt. Ryan reluctantly breaks away to comply, tossing his shirt to the side and collapsing once more to melt into Gavin, occupying him with hungry, devouring kisses as Gavin’s hands roam all over him, nails nicking the scar along his ribs and thumbs skating over his nipples. 

Ryan grasps one of Gavin’s wrists and urgently yanks his hand down, whispering little pleas into his mouth as Gavin clumsily palms his erection. Gavin groans and curls his fingers around the length, jacking Ryan over the cloth and smushing his knuckles to the head - Ryan’s hips jerk and his breath stutters.

“All from this morning, huh?” Gavin breathes, scrabbling at Ryan’s waistband to push his sweats down. “Christ, no underwear?” 

“Why bother?” Ryan pants with a grin, planting a sloppy kiss to the corner of Gavin’s mouth before pushing himself up. He reaches for the drawer and pulls out the strip of condoms, tapping it against Gavin’s hand to urge him to help out - clumsily and with breathless laughter, they manage to coordinate to rip one off. Ryan kisses Gavin’s cheek and drops the packet on his chest to put the rest of the strip away and grab the lube, pausing before taking it out. 

“Lube?” He asks. 

“What, with the way you were slobberin’ all over me down there?” 

Ryan playfully flicks Gavin’s side with his other hand, eliciting a sharp yelp and a giggle. He leaves the lube where it is and returns his attention to Gavin, thumbing over the hickey blooming on his throat and dropping to leave a matching one on the other side, moaning quietly when his dick brushes Gavin’s hip. Gavin fists a hand in his hair and reaches down to wrap warm fingers around Ryan’s cock with light, unsatisfying strokes that make Ryan grunt and fidget more than stimulate him - although he supposes that’s what Gavin’s going for. It certainly draws his attention, anyhow, makes him give up on the mark and rear back to knock Gavin’s hand away, plucking the condom from his chest as he takes himself in hand. 

“ _ Impatient _ ,” he scolds lightly, pumping himself as he settles on his knees. Gavin smirks, props himself up on his elbows to watch while Ryan rips the condom open and rolls it on, spitting crudely on his fingers to slicken himself a little. Gavin pulls a face. 

“Gross,” he says. Ryan laughs and looks up at him, easing his sweats down so the elastic snaps at the top of his thighs and under his ass, unbothered with fully undressing. 

“Just making sure,” he replies, running his dry hand up Gavin’s thigh and against the grain of hair to reach his crotch, gently spreading him with his thumb. He scoots up to press the head of his dick to Gavin’s hole, a tight little moan catching in his throat when Gavin clenches against him. 

“Fuck, not gonna last long,” he warns, gripping Gavin’s hip and glancing up. Gavin swallows thickly and licks his lips, his chest stuttering under the shoved-open suit. 

“Don’t care,” he says. “Jus’ want you.” 

Ryan nods and carefully pins Gavin down as he sinks in, groans loudly at the feel of Gavin stretched around him, hot and familiar after so long apart - not really  _ that _ long but it always feels like ages when he doesn’t fall asleep with another person’s breathing beside him. 

And anyway, he  _ much _ prefers this to the phone. Prefers to feel Gavin’s moans reverberate through his chest and the jump of his muscles when he touches him right, kiss away the cocky smirk to melt it into a pleased little  _ oh _ , mark Gavin up as much as he likes and admire the bruises the next day. It’s much more satisfying, even as he bends over to muffle his moan against Gavin’s skin, panting hotly over his collarbone when his hips hit Gavin’s ass. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. “ _ God _ \- ” 

“Move,” Gavin pleads, a whine slipping into his voice. “Ryan, please - ” 

“Okay, okay - yeah, okay,” Ryan whispers, pushing himself up on one hand to skate the other down to Gavin’s cock, grinding his thumb against it as he starts up a slow pace, addicted all over again to the short, jumpy moans that leave Gavin with each thrust. 

Gavin slides his elbows out to lay flat on his back, winding his fingers in Ryan’s hair and pulling in that gentle way that sends tingles down Ryan’s spine, makes him moan and snap his hips in. His thumb slips a little in the slick that coats Gavin and the loss makes Gavin whine beautifully under him, low and pleading until Ryan figures out the pace again, matching it with clumsy kisses up Gavin’s neck, over the hickeys, to his slack mouth, biting at his lip and groaning when Gavin squeezes deliberately around him. 

Ryan nudges Gavin’s ass up a little more with his knees and thrusts in - Gavin whimpers and jolts, nodding as Ryan catches his lips in more sloppy kisses, panting hotly into them as he focuses on hitting Gavin’s sweet spot with each strong roll of his hips. Even through the condom, it’s fucking  _ perfect _ , hot and tight and just the sound of it, filthy-wet and smacking, makes arousal coil hot in him, twisting up tight in his muscles and dancing over his skin in little pinpricks of pleasure. Gavin wriggles and tugs on his hair, hooks his legs around Ryan’s waist and gasps out these whiny  _ ah-ah _ s that abruptly pitch high and break the same moment he collapses into shuddering,  _ writhing _ under Ryan and his hand flying to grip Ryan’s arm, nails digging in  _ hard _ as he comes around him, Ryan’s name fucked out of him in staccato syllables. It’s so overwhelming it almost pushes Ryan right off the edge, but he manages to hold back, distracts himself with kissing Gavin dizzy and stroking him until Gavin’s whimpering from oversensitivity, his thighs clamping tight to Ryan’s sides and hips bucking up erratically with each too-much touch as pathetic half-whines and hitched breaths spill into the kiss. 

“Mm -  _ mm _ \- ” Gavin breaks away gasping, pulling Ryan away by his hair and sucking in huge breaths as something close to tears glimmer in the corners of his eyes, pupils blown wide and dark. He opens his mouth to speak but the next thrust of Ryan’s hips makes his jaw slam back closed; Ryan huffs out a laugh but then Gavin grinds down against him and all his breath is lost in one fell swoop, punched out of his lungs and into the scant space between them and  _ oh he’s not gonna last long at all here _ . 

“Shit,  _ shit _ \- ” Ryan pants, ripping his hand away from Gavin to plant it on his chest and push up. His limbs are shaky and weak even as Gavin’s legs fall away to let him pull out - Ryan swallows down a quiet whimper and briefly rubs the head of his cock against Gavin’s, smearing his own slick against him. 

Gavin’s whole body jolts with a shudder at it, his fingers curling anew in the bedsheets while Ryan tugs the condom off, tosses it carelessly to the side and clumsily swings his leg over to straddle Gavin. He bends down to crush their mouths together as he wraps his fingers around his dick, tugging with hot, quick strokes. Hands run down his sides and across his back, tangle in his hair once more and  _ pull _ to coax out a broken moan and a breathless curse - Ryan’s back arches up a little when he comes, pressing his face to Gavin’s cheek and whimpering raggedly as he spurts over Gavin’s chest, over the folds of the shirt and jacket still on him. 

The hand in his hair turns to stroking instead of tugging, nails scraping gently over his scalp as he trembles apart a little, flushed hot to the tips of his ears and still working himself over, the slap of skin-on-skin downright lewd in the post-orgasm quiet. He runs his thumb over the head again and a sigh shudders out of him with the next few strokes, until he’s softening against his palm and content enough to drop his hand, lifting his head and dragging his palm up Gavin’s clothed arm to link their fingers together before gently pushing Gavin’s hand back to the bed. Gavin pouts attractively but Ryan takes a moment to admire the mess on him, the dark stains where come has soaked into the edges of the suit. 

“Should do this more often,” he says with a sly grin, swiping up a drop on his thumb and sucking it off. “IT’s a good look on you.” 

“Oh shut up and get back down here,” Gavin chides, and Ryan indulges. 

And indulges, and  _ indulges _ , until his lips are numbing from kisses and sweat is cooling on his back - he can’t imagine Gavin is much better, however, especially between the legs and politely doesn’t complain while Gavin shifts under him, fingers trailing down to pluck at the suit. 

“‘S all - dryin’,” he whines. Ryan pecks his cheek and looks down between them, lifting a shoulder in a lazy shrug. 

“It was hot, though,” he says. “‘Sides, said I was gonna do it. You agreed.” 

Gavin frowns and flicks Ryan’s nipple. 

“Stop being a bloody - right bastard,” he mumbles, leaning up to capture Ryan’s lips again and occupy him so thoroughly he can’t even  _ think _ of a response.  

Ryan gently squeezes their linked hands and smiles, brushing softer kisses to Gavin’s lips as he looks at him, starstruck and lovestruck all over again. Gavin’s eyes are hazy, happy, soft at the edges like a faded photograph and just as heartachingly familiar, and Ryan doesn’t even count the seconds anymore when he gets caught like this, content to just  _ exist _ in Gavin’s presence for as long as Gavin will let him. 

“Love you,” he breathes, nudging their noses together. 

“Love y’too,” Gavin replies, and snorts out a giggle. “Stop bloody  _ starin _ ’ at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like - I dunno, like I’m gonna disappear or somethin’. I love you, ‘m not going anywhere.” 

“You’re just very nice to look at,” Ryan says with a grin. 

“Oh, come off it,” Gavin scolds playfully, slapping Ryan’s arm before kissing him. “I’ve already got your come all over me.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“ _ Ryan _ .” 

“Five minutes,” Ryan says, lifting a hand to cup Gavin’s cheek. “Five minutes and then I’ll help you clean off.” 

“Mm, okay,” Gavin agrees. He cracks a smile, one that crinkles his eyes in the corners and makes Ryan’s heart swoop in his chest. “Now c’mere.” 

They don't clean off for at least another ten minutes. 


	3. Chapter 3

While Japan is certainly a step up from the office, the weather is certainly  _ not _ . Even with tactical gear on, armour and thermal layers and all, the chill slaps Ryan across the nose, raises a sting in his eyes. 

Next time  _ he’s _ going to fucking Paris. 

The centre itself has a simple layout - hospital at one end, recovery unit at the other, resort facilities sprinkled throughout - but the security is double-dosed, armed guards at every entrance and roaming the grounds with a sharp eye. Ryan supposes it’s fitting for the clientele - GAMA isn’t exactly  _ cheap _ . 

And speaking of cheap, the agency didn’t even give Ryan an undercover outfit to  _ start _ with. And he’s  _ not _ about to take Gavin’s terrible suggestions on disguising himself as a chef - the staff pool is far too small, too many people will recognise him as a stranger, and he wouldn’t even know where to  _ begin _ with Japanese cuisine. 

So he supposes stealth it is. 

\-- 

Gavin flicks through the cameras  _ yet _ again while Ryan’s stuffing bodies into cabinets in the guard station - “How classy,” Gavin comments, and Ryan laughs. 

“He’s not in surgery,” Gavin continues, clicking away from the OR cams to the hallways. “Nor in the outpatient rooms.” 

“I saw him near the spa entrance,” Ryan says, locking the cabinet. “But I don’t know where he is now.” 

“Well he can’t get too far, can he? He’s just here for a nose job, innhe?” Gavin asks, his eyes drifting to the target file by his keyboard. He hasn’t done much more than skim it, but maybe it’s worth another read-over. 

“Did you even  _ read _ the file, Gavin?” Ryan deadpans, fixing the camera with a  _ look _ . 

“Yeah!” Gavin exclaims. 

“Uh-huh. What’s his name?” 

“Unimportant.” 

“ _ Gavin _ .” 

“What? Christ, he’s just a bloke with a nose bandage, shouldn’t be too hard to find him.” Although he probably should read that file again. 

“Do you know his room number?” 

“All right, all right, I’ll read the file again, you mingy bastard,” Gavin mutters, setting his drink down while Ryan tugs open a desk drawer. 

“Why thank you, Gavin, for doing your  _ job _ ,” Ryan teases, pulling out a screwdriver. Gavin pulls a face - Ryan flips the screwdriver in mid-air, and Gavin rolls his eyes. 

“You’ve got military grade guns, Ryan, you don’t need a damn  _ screwdriver _ .” 

“Eh, you never know,” Ryan says, tucking the screwdriver in his belt. “Could come in handy.” 

“You’ve already  _ got _ a lockpicking set.” 

“Hey, I don’t criticise your methods, do I?” 

“You just did!” 

“No, I simply asked if you knew some basic information about the target.” 

Gavin doesn’t respond except with a indignant  _ nyeh _ that makes Ryan chuckle. 

“Well while you read up, I’m gonna move to the garden,” Ryan says, fixing the Velcro strap on his gloves. “Is it clear?” 

“Yeah, it’s clear,” Gavin replies, and flips open the mission file with his free hand. “I  _ guess _ I’ll read up on him again, see if there’s any clues we missed.” 

“Any clues  _ you _ missed.” 

“Oi!” 

\-- 

“Looks like the target’s a real arsehole,” Gavin murmurs in Ryan’s ear, his voice underscored by the gentle clacking of the keyboard. 

“Well then,” Ryan says, a smirk growing on his face as he glances up at the camera, deftly flipping the screwdriver in his hand. “Screw him.” 

“Christ,” Gavin replies, a short huff of laughter following after. 

“What?” 

“Keep it clean, is all.” 

“Hey, the brief only said it had to be  _ quiet _ .” 

“Yeah, and  _ I _ don’t want to send your bloody gear off to the incin!” 

Ryan opens his mouth to reply but nearby snow suddenly crunches under heavy footsteps and he shuts up in favour of listening carefully, adjusting his grip on the screwdriver as the camera opposite swivels to look at the corner for him. 

“It’s a patient,” Gavin says calmly. “Not the one we need,” he adds, perfectly answering Ryan’s silent question. “Head guy.” 

Ryan rolls his eyes. Fuck’s sake. 

The patient lingers for a few minutes before his footsteps crunch-crunch away, leaving Ryan alone once more in the snowy garden. 

“Well where the fuck is he?” Ryan whispers. 

“I’m checking the cameras.” 

Ryan frowns and slumps back in the shadows, sharp eyes fixed on the treeline at the base of the mountain to watch for the hourly guard patrol. They didn’t spot him last time, and he’s hoping this time he can elude them much in the same way. He blends quite well into the darkness here, obscured partially by the light flurries of snow and the looming shadows cast by the grey-brick building behind him, huge and imposing. And thankfully the fresh snowfall covers his tracks. 

More footsteps crunch nearby - patients and guards and doctors and staff alike, and none of them the person Ryan needs. He didn’t think it’d be this hard to find a rhinoplasty patient - a six foot, brown-eyed, black-haired, average build patient with a swathe of bandages over his nose, but apparently that just seems to work as a generic description of the average clientele here. 

Ryan’s just considering pulling a fucking fire alarm when Gavin inhales sharply in his ear, the camera opposite swivelling and zooming and - 

“There! There!” Gavin crows triumphantly. “Quick, he’s just stepping out!” 

“Quick? Gavin, there’s guards everywhere!” Ryan hisses, creeping to the corner nonetheless. 

“Well I - oh no, no, he’s going back in - Ryan, you’ll have to follow him, I haven’t got camera access past that hallway.” 

“ _ Follow _ ? He’s - where is he?” 

“Just going in the door, his back’s to you.” 

Ryan can see it in his head - the length of the garden, the frozen little river and the bridge and the door that Gavin’s talking about, the guard beside it and the patients milling around, and he knows that he’ll never make it over in time, even if he was somehow magically invisible. 

With a deep breath and in a split-second solo decision, Ryan flips the screwdriver in his hand and steps out from the corner - Gavin yelps in his ear and patients scream, alarms ring, guards’ hands fly to their pistols and the target turns around - 

And Ryan heaves his arm back and  _ launches _ the screwdriver across the frozen pond - it strikes true, and gruesomely, in the target’s forehead, and Ryan barely sees him collapse before bullets are pinging around him, one grazing his shoulder and making him flinch as he turns on slippery snow to sprint away behind the building, Gavin shouting in his ear the whole time. 

“What the  _ bloody _ hell, Ryan?!” Gavin shrieks. “It was supposed to be  _ stealth _ !  _ Quiet _ !” 

“Well,” Ryan pants, “I wasn’t going to lose him again.” 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , Ryan,” Gavin spits, the click-clack of the keyboard ratcheted up to light speed in Ryan’s ears. “Okay well there’s the helicopter if you can get up to the roof, or that cable car by the front entr - ” 

“When’s that patrol coming around?” Ryan asks, ducking around another corner and peeing around to shoot at some of the guards following him - they’re not as fast as him, but he’s certainly outnumbered. He catches a couple in the shoulder, another in the leg, and when his clip runs out he takes to running again. 

“ _ Gavin _ \- ” 

“Now,  _ now _ , they’re right down from you,” Gavin replies, and Ryan snaps a new round into his pistol before sharply changing direction, sending bullets back at the crowd of guards as he stumble-slides down the snowy hill, towards the faint growl of an engine he can hear. 

The snowbike stops when he trips out into the middle of the narrow mountain road, the guards on it confused and spitting Japanese to him - 

_ Bang _ !  _ Bang _ ! And they’re taken care of. 

He leaves the bodies in the snow before he drives off, the sound of alarms and yelling fading fast behind him. 

\-- 

The hot water leeches the rest of the chill from Ryan’s bones, his shivering subsiding as he ducks his head under the spray and sighs contentedly. His shoulder stings from the bullet graze, but it’s not much more than a bad scrape - an injury he has plenty of supplies for in his hotel room. Which at least is a  _ nice _ room, he’ll give that to the agency. 

Ryan shuts off the water when the bathroom’s steamy and hot, the little fan running at high speed while he dries off. He pads out to grab his medkit from the suitcase and plops it beside the sink, gritting his teeth while he pours sharp antiseptic over the scrape and wipes up the bubbling blood oozing from it. A couple wide, square bandages taped over it seem to soak up the blood well enough, and he leaves the kit on the counter to head to the bed instead, untucking his towel to let it fall on the floor before crawling on and settling at the head. 

He spends a minute fiddling about with the pillows, stuffing them behind his back and shifting until he’s a little more than approximately comfortable. He scoops up his laptop from the bedside table, and his phone, too, swiping it open to see no new messages, which means he’s safe for now. 

And, well. He’s got a few hours free. 

Ryan grins to himself and opens up the phone camera, turning it around to face his bare legs. He bends a knee and artfully angles the camera to only capture everything from mid-thigh down to where his toes curl into the plush sheets. 

He sends it with a caption of  _ I’ve got something to show you _ and waits patiently for Gavin’s response. 

It dings through not a minute later, while Ryan’s opening up the laptop beside him. 

_ Is it your cock, Ryan?  _

Ryan laughs loudly to himself, shaking his head as he types out his answer. 

> _ Why such little faith in me? Videocall me  _

_ I know what you’re like  _

> _ And? _

Instead of a reply, Ryan’s laptop starts ringing with Gavin’s contact picture - he bites the inside of his cheek and picks it up to settle on his thighs as he accepts the call, grinning as the screen widens to show Gavin on the other side, perched on their bed at home, a matching smile on his face. 

“All right then you horny bastard,” Gavin quips, snickering a little. “Show me.” 

“You wound me, Gavin,” Ryan scolds, reaching over to pluck his sponge bag from the table. “Don’t hafta do anything.” 

“Never said I didn’t want to,” Gavin replies, shifting the computer on his crossed legs. “Just calling you a randy bastard.” 

Ryan laughs at the fond scolding as he unzips the bag, pushing the laptop back a bit so he can get at himself if he needs to. 

“Well, I stopped by a - store earlier,” he says carefully, meeting the camera with a smirk. “A certain Japanese store.” 

“You didn’t go in a bloody sex shop, did you?” 

Ryan smirks and holds up an unopened Tenga egg to the camera, laughing at Gavin’s sigh, a giggle breaking his faux-exasperated façade a moment later. 

“So what’s that, a fancy sort of - fleshlight thing?” Gavin asks. Ryan nods. 

“Yeah, it’s - I haven’t tried one yet,” he says, and pulls out a few more things from the bag to show Gavin. 

“Blueberry  _ cake _ lube?” Gavin asks, and his face looks torn between curious and disgusted. Ryan chuckles. 

“Apparently,” he says, turning the bottle to read it. “Didn’t smell too bad.” 

“You’re not bloody usin’ it on me.” 

“More for me, then,” Ryan says with a shrug. “Oh, and I got something for you,” he adds with a sly grin, holding up a soft silicone vibrator, no bigger than his palm and about as round - pebble, he thinks, is the English name. 

“For me?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, pressing the button to let Gavin hear it buzz softly, strong pulses against his fingertips. “Thought you’d like it?” 

“I  _ do _ ,” Gavin breathes, cracking a lopsided smile. “How sweet of you to think of me while you’re in a foreign sex shop, Ryan.” 

Ryan rolls his eyes and Gavin laughs brightly over his speakers, settling back against their headboard as he watches Ryan with that cool gaze of his. 

“Well come on, then,” Gavin says, deliberately dropping a hand to press between his legs, a scarce tease for Ryan. “You gonna show me how that egg thing works?” 

“Yeah - yeah, let me just - ” Ryan grunts as he shifts the laptop to the bed between his legs, angling the camera so Gavin can see his face as well, and sees more than hears Gavin’s sharp intake of breath when Ryan takes himself in hand and starts stroking. 

Ryan swears quietly as he hardens in his fist, even just this touch making his skin tight with shivery nerves, Gavin’s heated gaze sending electric little thrills through him. When he’s fully there, he takes his hand off to pick up the egg and twist it open, poking curiously at the soft inside before he takes that out as well. 

“What type is it?” Gavin says before Ryan tosses the casing away - Ryan pauses to read it, squinting to try and find an English word on it. 

“Uh - Wavy,” he says. “American size.” 

“ _ American _ size? What does  _ that _ mean?” 

“Uh, it’s like - bigger,” Ryan mumbles. Gavin bursts into laughter and Ryan flips him off, discarding the egg to the side as he studies the silicone fleshlight. 

“Oh sure, because you  _ needed _ a bigger one,” Gavin giggles, his hand still pressed to himself as he turns red, dropping his head to laugh harder. 

“Yeah!” Ryan protests. “Look, I looked at the normal ones and they - look, you don’t want it to be  _ too _ tight, okay, some friction’s good but you don’t want - ” 

“Sure, yeah, you’re just absolutely  _ hung _ .” 

“ _ Hey _ . I just, y’know, wanted to be on the safe side, okay!” 

Ryan flipping Gavin off just sends him into another giggle fit - Ryan sighs and takes out the little lube packet stuffed inside the egg to rip it open and sniff it, but it yields nothing interesting. 

“Are you done laughin’ at me, or?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m done, I’m done,” Gavin wheezes, biting his lip as he leans back and focuses on Ryan again. “Mr.  _ American _ size.” 

“Well you’re never complaining,” Ryan quips right back, and Gavin nods. 

“Yeah, got me there,” he agrees, and snickers again. 

Ryan rolls his eyes but can’t help smiling, not when Gavin’s all bubbly-happy like this, and pours the lube into the toy before gripping himself again. His eyes flick up to watch Gavin for a moment - Gavin bites his lip and looks back, flashing him a goofy grin that makes Ryan snicker even as he steadies the toy in his other hand. 

Lube drips all down him when he flips it over, pressing the head of his cock to the hole and dragging the toy down - it stretches  _ surprisingly _ far, a smooth, even glide until the fingers holding it in place hit his groin, and the sensation punches out a soft, aroused  _ oh _ from him. 

“What’s it like, then?” Gavin asks curiously, and Ryan notices his fingers are rubbing in slow little circles over his pyjama bottoms. 

“It’s uh -  _ textured _ ,” Ryan says, gasping quietly when he tries an experimental stroke, the lube-slick ridges inside sliding smoothly along him. He settles his fingers around the head and tries rubbing over that - and nearly bucks into his hand, shocked at the way it ripples over all the sensitive spots, kisses his wet tip when he presses down. 

“Wavy, you said?” Gavin asks. 

“Y - Yeah, and I’ve got uh - ” Ryan spares a glance to the open sponge bag and licks his lips. “Uh, another one called Misty. They’re uh - different ridges inside, but I don’t know what.” 

Ryan indulges in a few strokes to try and adjust to the new,  _ odd _ , thoroughly pleasant sensation - stroking is better than twisting, he finds, and looser is better than tighter, to let it  _ brush _ rather than drag over him. Gavin pants softly while he watches, his hand snaking under his waistband to properly touch himself, coaxing more noise out of him that makes Ryan flush just from the  _ sound _ of it. 

He spreads his leg out more to let Gavin see better as he fumbles for the vibrator, pushing it on and carefully pressing it to the head of his dick over the silicone - and  _ fuck _ , it’s definitely strong, sends all of the silicone buzzing around him. Curses spill out of him at it, a violent shudder ripping through him when he twitches in his hand and bucks up, fucking properly into his fist while his heels dig into the bed. 

Gavin moans on the other end and scoots to shove his pyjamas down and off, accidentally kicking his laptop on the way. Ryan isn’t really paying attention until Gavin  _ groans _ , and then his head snaps up to watch, and his breath hitches all over again at the sight of Gavin touching himself, his fingers rubbing in clumsy circles as he repositions the laptop.  

“F -  _ Fuck _ ,” Ryan whimpers, his head tipping back against the headboard. “Fuck, Gav, ‘m not gonna -  _ shit _ , it’s so  _ good _ \- ” 

Gavin’s string of curses is more than enough response for Ryan, who closes his eyes against the onslaught of sensation and helplessly speeds up his hand, tossing in a little twists just to mix it up a bit while he presses the vibe harder to the head, sets the little nubs abuzz and tears a ragged moan from himself, toes curling in the sheets as his thighs flex with the effort of rocking up. He switches to stroking more towards the base, lifting the stretchy silicone and shivering at the obscene sound of the lube, smacking wet against his skin as he jacks himself faster, desperately chasing his orgasm. He’s not far, he knows, helped by Gavin’s noises and the strong pulses of the vibe and the fact he hasn’t gotten off for a week apart from the occasional morning wood deal. 

In fact, it catches him so off-guard that all the air punches out of him when he comes, his mouth dropping open on little cut-off groans as he spurts into the toy, greedily grinds the vibe against himself and pants out Gavin’s name somewhere in there, all his nerves alight with sharp-shock pleasure and relief at the same time, gradually tipping over into oversensitivity that makes him whimper and jerk. 

The room seems too silent when Ryan turns the vibe off - and then Gavin’s moans echo through, and Ryan snaps his eyes open to watch, biting his lip at the sight of Gavin knuckle-deep in himself and close enough he’s visibly  _ trembling _ , his fingers blurring on his cock. 

Ryan gently squeezes the silicone around himself and drags it up before he can start going soft inside it - he pauses when it’s all bunched up around the head, thumbing at the tip and swearing when a hot bubble of lube drips down his length. Gavin pathetically moans his name, eyes glued to his screen, so Ryan keeps playing with the mess, pushing down until his come rolls down himself in filthy beads to pool at his base, squished out by his gentle kneading of the egg. 

“ _ God _ ,” Gavin spits, and curls over when he comes, hips jolting up into his fingers. Heat crawls up Ryan’s neck again at the wet sound of it, Gavin’s noise falling away to hot panting as his hands keep up their fast movements, rubbing furiously at himself. 

“Fuck, goin’ for another?” Ryan breathes, and Gavin nods jerkily, whimpering quietly while his eyes flutter shut, his nose scrunched up in that way it does when he’s hypersensitive and twitchy - Ryan can almost  _ taste _ it, sharply wishes that he could  _ be _ there, slide his fingers in next to Gavin’s and catch all those bubbling moans with his lips, feel the way Gavin shudders and trembles under him, all the flexing muscles in his forearm and thighs as he works himself up to another orgasm. 

That second orgasm comes with a rough groan and Gavin’s shoulders slamming back against the headboard, his mouth dropping open and face twisted up as he comes over his fingers, slick enough the mic can pick up the frenetic motions of his hands. Ryan’s dick twitches in his fist, trying valiantly to get hard once more, but he can’t go again that quickly, so while Gavin gradually relaxes against the headboard, he tugs the egg off all the way and discards it on the sheets. There’s still come and lube seeping down him in filthy droplets, smeared into the skin with his thumb as he softens. 

“Good?” Ryan murmurs, slumping back into his pillows. Gavin nods and slides his fingers out of himself with a hiccoughed little giggle, glancing up at the camera through his lashes. 

“What?” Ryan asks, smiling slightly. 

“When you get back,” Gavin starts, interrupts himself with a snicker. “You gonna stick your  _ American size _ in me, Mr. Haywood?” He collapses into laughter before he even gets the last word out, hauling the laptop up to rest on his thighs instead while Ryan groans mock-exasperatedly, thunking his head back against his pillow. 

“Only if you ask nicely,” he says, reaching for a tissue to wipe his fingers before he picks up his computer and sets it on his abdomen, away from the mess between his legs now. 

“Gonna stick your American-size in me,  _ please _ ?” Gavin tries, batting his eyelashes in a flirtatious exaggeration that makes Ryan burst into laughter. 

“Incorrigible,” Ryan scolds fondly, tapping his clean thumb against the screen over Gavin’s cheek. 

Gavin’s smile softens, his gaze turned affectionate as he presses a kiss to his middle and ring fingers, then gently touches them briefly to the camera. 

“Love you, Ry,” he says quietly, and grins brighter than the sun when Ryan returns the gesture and the words. “Make it back safe, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “Give me a minute to clean up and then stick around?” 

“God, yeah,” Gavin groans. “I’ve only got a couple hours ‘fore I have to head off, though.” 

“I’ll take anything,” Ryan laughs, and sets the laptop aside to go about cleaning himself off - Gavin does the same on his end, swinging his legs off the bed and grumbling the whole while. 

Ryan falls asleep an hour later to the sound of Gavin’s quiet laughter. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Ryan comes home from Japan, Gavin welcomes him by throwing himself at Ryan in an eager hug, coupled with a warm kiss to his cheek. This time, the contact is more about the reunion than any lingering desire buzzing in their veins - though Gavin can’t let him in without reminding him of the video call.

“Welcome home, _Mr. American Size,”_ he teases when he pulls back, bursting into delighted snickers when Ryan’s cheeks flush pink.

“You’re an asshole,” Ryan sighs, dropping his bag by the door.

“But you missed me,” Gavin coos back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He gives Ryan a nudge, pushing him towards the living room. “Go and get settled, love, I’ll grab you a drink. What d’you fancy for dinner tonight?”

“Somethin’ greasy,” Ryan calls from the living room. “The meatiest pizza we can get, preferably.”

When Gavin comes through with a nice, cold diet coke for each of them, he sees that Ryan’s already sunken into his spot on the couch with a relieved sigh. He’s kicked his boots off nearby too and stretched his legs out in front of himself; it’s probably the first time he’s properly relaxed in days. It’s easy to sympathise with that, considering it’s hard to breathe sometimes when they’re out there in the field - the ICA’s protection can only go so far when they’re on foreign soil. It’s a miracle that they find the chance to mess around while on the job, really, considering how alert they need to be.

Once he’s passed over the drinks, Gavin tucks himself into Ryan’s side. His partner welcomes him with an arm around his shoulder while he flips the TV over to Netflix. It’s painfully domestic, tooth-rottingly sweet in a way that Gavin has come to adore.

“We’ll get two massive pizzas then,” Gavin says, his cheek pressed against Ryan’s shoulder, curled up next to him like he hasn’t just come off of a roughly thirteen hour flight and a week hunting down a target. Ryan could probably use a shower too, but Gavin couldn’t care less about that right this second. “Enough that we can have leftovers for lunch.”

There’s a quiet hiss as Ryan cracks open his drink. “You’re underestimating how ready I am for pizza,” he says, lazily pointing towards Gavin with a finger curled around the can. “I’m pretty sure I can put away a disgusting amount of it right now.”

Gavin tips his head back to grin up at him. “So nothing too cheeky after dinner, then?”

Ryan glances back towards his bag, and Gavin remembers the goodies he bought while he was in Japan. It sends a little trickle of heat into his stomach that he tries to ignore.

Ryan looks like he’s weighing up two much more difficult decisions, though, and Gavin bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. It _has_ been a bit since they’ve had time to be physical in person. “I mean… I wouldn’t say that. Give me a pizza and a few hours of sleep, then we’ll see.”

* * *

It’s easy to forget sometimes just how _busy_ the agency is. Most of the time, it’s just him and Gavin in their own little world, but the ICA has plenty of other agents available for hire, too. It just so happens that he and Gavin are the best team, so they usually get the harder, better paying jobs. Hokkaido is just one example of some of the more difficult assassinations they’ve undertaken, while something like Paris is a little more on the relaxed side of things.

Each assassination always comes with a hefty paycheck, though, so unlike some of the other agents, they can afford to take a bit of a break.

They do have to come in the next day for a quick debriefing - and a stern look for making it less subtle than initially requested by their client, the Shadow Client - but otherwise, they’re on much lighter duty for a little while. The jobs that do come in can be given to other teams, granting them some space to recover from jetlag and get some rest. It’s a taxing job, as much as they both enjoy it, so any opportunity to just spend time together is a blessing.

Light work doesn’t mean they can just laze around, though. They still have to make appearances at the agency, still have to go in to see people and listen in on certain meetings. People like Gavin and Ryan are encouraged not to concern themselves with the politics of their work, but the ICA _does_ care about its mission to remain neutral, so the amount of experience between the two of them means that their input is deeply valuable. Sometimes, being in the field grants them the chance to understand something that the ICA didn’t when it accepted the target.

Gavin can barely sit still in their own apartment sometimes, so Ryan takes it upon himself to go to these meetings. It’s not much of a fair trade - Gavin will be home long before Ryan because of the delay here, and the meetings _are_ dull even when they do ask for his opinion - but he sits there and pays attention, the file of his latest target laid out on the long, dark table in front of him. He’s resigned himself to the wait.

It occurs to him that he never really got a good look at the file. It’s usually the agent in the office who gets the most amount of time to read it; the field agent gets a quick glance before they leave and while they’re travelling, but it’s not nearly enough time to study it in depth. And, well, Ryan’s curiosity is starting to get the better of him.

He casts a quick glance along the table - everyone’s distracted, of course, they’re talking cryptically about upcoming assassinations and whether they’ll cause any waves. When it seems like he won’t be noticed, Ryan tugs the file closer and flips it open, trying to appear casual as he turns the pages.

He doesn’t care much about the target. It’ll be the same story that it always is: some kind of criminal, he needed to be taken down for whatever reason. At the end of the day, it’s just a paycheck for Ryan. That’s not what he’s looking for.

No, he just wants to know more about the Shadow Client.

There’s never anything defining - the ICA would never name their clients or give them any sort of specific number; the agency prides itself on keeping things anonymous, making sure that those who use its services are protected. In all the files he’s ever read, in all the jobs they’ve ever done for them, there hasn’t once been any clues about who any of their clients are. This one is probably a criminal, Ryan thinks, judging by the targets that they’ve been given. Possibly one with oddly decent morals.

It’s strange, and more than a little bit frustrating. Ryan’s never been one to question who might be hiring them, but then they’ve also never had someone come back so many times and be so _obvious_ about being a repeat customer. The only reason he knows it’s the same person is because of the quietly charming tone to every briefing, and then the one part at the end where the client has to write in their own hand: a single check mark in a box asking if they understand what they’re requesting. The tick always swoops in the same way.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Ryan checks along the table again quickly before he tugs it out of his pocket to see what Gavin wants; he’s the only one who ever texts him, he doesn’t have to see the screen to know who it is.

**[Man With The Golden Bum]** heading home now love. any idea how long youll be?

As always the nickname makes Ryan fight back a smile. James Bond is more Gavin’s thing, but Ryan’s happy to play along - and then take it a step further than Gavin usually would just to make him laugh. The scandalised giggle is always worth it.

The table hasn’t called on Ryan yet, so he’s pretty sure they won’t notice his attention drifting. Still, he tries to keep it subtle as he texts Gavin back.

**[Me]** No clue. Taking their time, as usual.

**[Man With The Golden Bum]** ugh weak. i’ll wait on starting dinner then. don’t let them keep you too long.

**[Me]** I’ll try.

It takes a few more hours though before Ryan can get away, and by then he’s exhausted, hungry, and desperate to get out of his suit. He leaves the file with his superiors - it’ll be tucked away somewhere safe, and it’ll likely never see the light of day again for the sake of the ICA’s safety - and he heads downstairs and outside to find that it’s already dark and pouring with rain. Ryan ducks his head against it and rushes for his car, grumbling all the while.

He understands the need for his presence at these meetings, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it, especially when it eats into some much deserved quiet time with Gavin. Before Ryan pulls out of the parking lot, he texts Gavin to let him know he’s on his way, and then he lets the splash of the rain on the roof soothe him as it brings him home.

It’s a short run from parking the car to their apartment, but even after Ryan’s finally home he’s still soaking wet. He steps inside and quickly strips off his suit jacket, shivering as the warmth of the apartment gets to his damp shirt.

He hears the soft slide of socked feet on the floor, and it’s quickly followed up by Gavin’s barely stifled giggle. “Ryan,” he says. “You’re _dripping,_ Ryan.”

When he looks up, Gavin is standing in the hallway, grinning at him. Rather than reply, Ryan lunges for him, dragging him in for a wet hug and laughing when Gavin squirms. “You bastard!” Gavin yells, wriggling against his hold - but Ryan has plenty of experience with holding Gavin still and he uses it to his advantage now, winding both arms around him to pin his back to his chest. “Let me go! You’re soaking!”

“Nope!” And as if it’ll make up for getting Gavin wet in his PJs, Ryan plants a kiss on his cheek, breaking away with a loud smack of his lips. Gavin huffs and goes still, apparently appeased for the moment. “You’re warm, I’m not lettin’ go.”

“Bastard,” Gavin mutters again mutinously. “After I made you dinner and everything.”

He twists in Ryan’s grip to give him a quick kiss, and Ryan finally lets him go so he can pad through to the kitchen. He bites back a laugh when he sees the wet imprint of his hands on the back of Gavin’s t-shirt. “Have you eaten already?”

“No, I waited for you.”

When he follows Gavin into the kitchen, he’s met by the warm scent of chicken and vegetables, and his stomach snarls with hunger. He eagerly scoops up his plate to take back to the living room, already stabbing some chicken onto his fork. Ryan doesn’t even grab a drink; he just wants to sit and eat as soon as he possibly can.

Gavin laughs again behind him. “Hungry much?”

“Very,” Ryan says through his mouthful. He swallows as he sits down heavily with a grunt. “They took forever,” he adds, shovelling more into his mouth just as quickly. “I probably didn’t even need to be there, you know what it’s like. Do nothing and be quiet as they talk around you.”

The couch dips as Gavin takes a seat next to him, tucking into his own dinner. “Mm,” he hums as he chews. “Bit of a waste of time, really.”

“Could be done without us,” Ryan agrees.

It’s a frequent complaint between the two of them, but they never actually do anything about it. As irritating as it is, their presence is actually needed on rare occasions, so Ryan doesn’t have it in him to be _too_ picky about it. Either way, it’s another one done for the moment, and now he can sit back and relax with his partner. As much as they both enjoy their jobs, it’s a relief to just sit and cuddle in the quiet of their living room with full bellies.

Later, sluggish with tiredness but still giggling as they trade kisses back and forth, they end up tumbling into bed. Gavin curls up at his side, wrapped up close like a needy koala in an attempt to steal his body heat, but Ryan doesn’t mind. He never has.

Here, in the quiet of their apartment, they could be anyone.

* * *

On the way into the agency the next morning, Gavin’s pouty. They overslept so he spent half of his time fighting with his signature red tie when getting dressed, his sleepy fingers too clumsy to knot it properly; Ryan had to gently intervene and send him on his way with a flask of coffee and a kiss on the cheek. The poor weather from last night is still lingering too, dark clouds hanging heavy and full in the sky as they head out to their car.

“Gross,” Gavin says, wrinkling his nose as he peers outside at the first drops of rain splattering on the windows. He didn’t even have time to do his hair this morning, he realises, frowning at his reflection.

“We’ll be inside,” Ryan reminds him. He starts them off towards the agency despite Gavin’s complaints; after a few moments of shifting and grumbling, he sinks further down in his seat to sip his coffee, his hair flopping over his forehead with the motion of it. Idly, he pushes it back so he can watch the streets roll by outside.

Ever the gentleman, Ryan attempts to shield him from the rain as they rush in through the front doors. He holds up the side of his own suit jacket, curling it around Gavin to protect him on their way in - it’s worth it even though Gavin fusses with him once they’re in the dry. They’re late enough already that they’ve missed whatever general morning meeting there might have been, but neither of them are too worried. Their reputation means that they can’t get into too much trouble, whether that’s at home or in the field.

“Your hair, love,” Gavin tuts, reaching up to fix it where he took the brunt of the rain. “Look at the state of it, Ryan.”

“It’s fine.” He ducks his head into Gavin’s touches anyway, allowing him to gently tug and smooth it out. He knows that Gavin will only want to keep trying if he doesn’t give him the opportunity to. “It’s not like I need to impress anyone.”

“You impress _me_ all the time.” Gavin gives him a look - it’s somewhere between fond and teasing - and lets his hand drop to his side again. He clutches his coffee in the other, holding it close to his chest for warmth, and rocks on his heels as he glances at the elevator with a sigh. “We should probably get going anyway.”

“Yeah.” Ryan tucks his hands into his pockets, slipping into a more professional mindset now as they wander over that way. “I doubt we missed anything important, though.”

Upstairs is a bustle of activity. It’s mostly comprised of various offices; it’s almost surprisingly normal except for the fact that it’s always far, far busier than an office would usually be, and there are telltale signs here and there that let newcomers know what kind of business this is. There’s snippets of conversation, handlers moving briskly down the hallway to get to their private rooms, the occasional agent sliding away to receive orders. They’re the sort of hints that Gavin and Ryan don’t pay much attention to any more, but they still can’t help picking up the little details anyway.

Ryan detours to get his own coffee on their way to their office, and Gavin lingers in the main area, people watching as he sips from his flask. Usually, they make their way along to their room after morning briefings to check for any emails; any meetings or training they’re scheduled for will pop up there, but there’s usually some time to relax first anyway. Gavin already knows he wants the opportunity to wake up a bit more first before he tackles anything this morning.

Out of the corner of his eye, quick movement catches his attention. He turns his head enough to see a familiar face rushing up to him: Trevor. His partner, Alfredo, is waiting at the door to their office behind him; he waves cheerfully to Gavin, and he returns it with an equally wide smile.

“Gavin, hey,” Trevor huffs, “why weren’t you at the briefing this morning?”

He shifts a little awkwardly. “Uh, just missed it,” he says, deciding to neatly step past the truth. “Why?”

Trevor gives him a look, but he doesn’t pry, thankfully. “Morris wanted to see you and Ryan in about, oh, five minutes?”

Gavin’s stomach abruptly drops back down to the ground floor. _“What?_ Why?”

He can only shrug. “No idea. Just said to tell you two if we saw you. You’d better get going, though, it sounded serious.”

_“Shite,_ thanks, Trevor!”

Gavin rushes over to Ryan, seizing him by the elbow and tugging, nearly spilling his freshly brewed coffee in the process. “We need to go!” he hisses, pulling Ryan along with him, and before Ryan can ask any questions, he hurriedly adds, “Morris wants us! Quickly, Ryan!”

Any protests die on Ryan’s tongue instantly, and Gavin feels him speeding up to keep pace. “Why does Morris wanna talk to us?”

“I don’t know, Ryan,” Gavin moans, walking faster and hammering on the elevator button. “Trevor didn’t say, just said we missed it at the morning briefing.”

Ryan curses under his breath next to him. They’ll make it in time thanks to Trevor, but Gavin can’t imagine their boss was very happy to realise they weren’t present for the initial request. As the elevator takes them higher up, Gavin bounces on his feet and regrets drinking so much of his coffee already; he snaps his flask’s mouthpiece shut to remove the temptation of it. Next to him, Ryan seems to be calmly sipping his, but Gavin spots the little nervous tap of his nails on the side of his mug.

It’s a terrifying few seconds - only a handful, even though it feels like forever - and then they’re stepping out into a quieter hallway. Morris’ office is at the end of it; Gavin remembers it well, even though it’s been a while since he’s had to visit.

He’s so jittery that Ryan has to reach over and rest a hand on his back, firm and warm, as he knocks.

“Come in.”

Gavin opens the door. Behind the desk is Morris, a woman in her late fifties with grey hair, and her gaze is as cool and analytical as ever as she watches two of her best agents enter her office. As always, she’s accompanied by a couple of agents of her own, though these two are bodyguards, there for her in case someone decides that the ICA _isn’t_ as politically neutral as it claims to be.

There is, however, a fourth person already waiting in her office, which is a little more unusual.

He’s seated on the right of her desk, angled to face both her and the empty chairs waiting for Gavin and Ryan. Aside from the obvious - he’s bald, wears neatly trimmed facial hair, looks a little uncomfortable in a suit - he just seems a bit nervous, fidgeting where he sits next to Morris. He glances between Gavin and Ryan, and then back to Morris again.

Interestingly, Gavin notes that he’s wearing a red tie. He’s not sure why they’d be here to see another agent, especially not one that must be a new recruit; between him and Ryan, they know almost everyone by face, at least. Gavin feels Ryan drawing himself up a little next to him, preparing himself, and he takes comfort in his presence.

Morris gestures at the empty chairs. “Free, Haywood, have a seat. Allow me to introduce you to Agent 04.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan breathes a sigh of relief the moment Morris’s door closes behind him, sharing a look with Gavin over the head of their new trainee. Agent 04 still doesn’t speak, and Gavin merely gives Ryan a shrug before they start walking back down the hallway. 

“I’m, uh, I’m Jeremy,” Agent 04 blurts out before they get two steps down, his hands in his pockets as he looks up at them, nervously biting his lip. It’s a drastic contrast to how professional and stoic he was in the meeting, all blank expressions and curt nods as Morris introduced them all. 

“Ryan,” Ryan says, extending his hand, and Jeremy reaches to take it - he abruptly trips over a bump in the carpet and they rush to steady him, grabbing his hand to pull him up while Gavin wraps an arm around his waist and keeps him upright. 

“You okay?” Ryan asks, smiling at the faint pink rising on Jeremy’s cheeks, his palm growing damp under Ryan’s. 

“Yeah, I’m - I’m good,” Jeremy answers, flashing them both a smile as they untangle themselves from him, sharing another secretive glance over his head. “Sorry.” 

“No problem,” Gavin replies easily as they resume their pace. “Happens all the time, that does. They really should get it sorted out.” 

“Yeah,” Jeremy agrees, adjusting his tie. “And you - ” 

“Gavin,” Gavin says before Jeremy can even finish his question, smiling brightly as he pushes the button on the lift, waiting patiently for it to open. “So you’re new, are you?” 

“I’ve done basic,” Jeremy says. 

“But field work,” Ryan interjects. The doors ding open and he politely waves Gavin and Jeremy in first, laughing at the playful way Gavin presses a hand to his heart. 

“You’ve never been out, have you?” Gavin asks, leaning against the wall to look at Jeremy. 

“No, I haven’t,” Jeremy admits. 

“Guess Morris must like you, then,” Gavin adds with a grin. “We don’t usually get trainees.” 

“You - You don’t? But she told me you were one of the best teams.” 

“Exactly,” Ryan answers coolly, stepping out the moment the door open on their floor. “New recruits usually shadow less busy teams.” 

“I won’t get in your way,” Jeremy promises, glancing between them. “Really, I’m a quick learner, I’ll pick it up - ” 

“Relax,” Gavin says. “You’re no bother.” 

“Not yet,” Ryan jokes, but Jeremy doesn’t seem to take it quite as kindly. 

“Seriously, Jeremy, it’s no trouble,” he says, softer, pausing by their office door to look Jeremy in the eye. “You’re not the first recruit we’ve had.” 

“Just the first in a while,” Gavin supplies. 

“Anyway,” Ryan says, grinning as he twists the handle. “Maybe with you around, Gavin’ll actually clean up his mess.” 

“Hey!” 

\-- 

Jeremy, turns out, is exactly the quick learner he claimed he was, and more. 

And Gavin’s found himself taking quite a liking to the guy. Kind of hard not to, with how amiable and easygoing Jeremy is, trading jokes with them and giving as good as he gets, all with that sunny smile and big bright laugh that Gavin’s learnt to look forward to in the mornings. 

It certainly makes agency time a lot more bearable, anyway. Morris hasn’t scheduled any missions for them for a month and a half just to train Jeremy up - although Gavin doesn’t think it’ll take a month and a half. Kid’s absorbent like a damn sponge, soaking up everything they tell him and squeezing it out later when they test him. 

A normal day goes somewhat like this: Gavin and Ryan meet Jeremy in their office - now shared between all three of them, desks scooted apart so Jeremy can fit, a whole new mess of monitors and wires hooked up underneath in an annoying tangle that not even Ryan can unknot now; Jeremy’s usually there before them, with coffee and a smile that cheers Gavin up out of his grumpy morning mood almost instantly. Then after settling in, after some boring, mandatory paperwork usually to do with missions they’ve already done -  _ Ryan did you use the launcher in Morocco?  _ or  _ Gav, you broke the lockpick in Italy, right? _ \- after all that kerfuffle, it turns to Jeremy. Sometimes it’s Gavin showing him surveillance tricks, sometimes it’s Ryan with tricky software hacks - anything they can do at their desk, really, to give him the full scope of their technology. 

“So if I want to route the cameras to main desk, I just - group them?” Jeremy asks, his mouse hovering over the button. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Gavin says, reaching over to steal some of Ryan’s pretzels. “Group ‘em and drag over and it should give you the main feed.” 

“That doesn’t seem logical.” 

“It’s not. But it’s what most companies use, simpler for rent-a-guards to manage,” Gavin answers. “But there’s always someone that uses the route-backs instead; I’ll have to show you that on another system.” 

“I’m guessing that’s not going to be easy?” 

“Nope!” Gavin chirps, but playfully nudges Jeremy’s shoulder at the look that crosses his face. “But you’ll do fine, Lil J. I mean, what, you’ve only been here a week and you’re already mastering this one.” He glances back at Ryan and leans in a little to stage whisper in Jeremy’s ear. “It took Ryan weeks to get the hang of it.” 

A barrage of pretzels abruptly batters against his neck and Gavin yelps, jumping in his seat and whirling around to glare at Ryan, who glares right back - the staring contest breaks a moment later when fingers pluck a pretzel off of Gavin’s shoulder, their warm touch making him shiver as he turns back to see Jeremy consider the snack before shrugging and popping it in his mouth. 

“Oh, that’s just gross,” Gavin says, and Jeremy shrugs again, licking salt crumbs off his thumb before turning back to the computer. 

“That’s - Ryan, tell ‘im that’s gross, Ryan,” Gavin repeats, but Ryan plucks another pretzel off of Gavin’s shoulder to eat it, and they both burst into laughter at Gavin’s disgusted shudder. 

\-- 

After deskwork, it’s lunch, which is usually pleasant and taken in the guarded courtyard, stealing bites of each other’s food as they chatter and laugh. Ryan introduces Jeremy to Trevor and Alfredo during one of these lunches, about two weeks in, and from then on Jeremy can be found in either Gavin’s and Ryan’s office or Trevor’s and Alfredo’s. 

And  _ then _ is where they get into the more physical training, where Ryan takes Jeremy to the gym or the shooting range and walks him through all the various types of guns the agency offers, which ones he’s likely to get on a first assignment, how to conceal all of them, how to spot who’s carrying - they run tests with this as well, conceal weapons on themselves (or none at all) and see if Jeremy can tell if they’re carrying or not, and if they are,  _ what _ they’re carrying. Or a test where they give Jeremy a certain amount of guns and tell him to conceal and run it by Trevor and Alfredo and a couple other agents to see if Jeremy’s successful at hiding them. 

“Here, c’mon, what am I hiding?” Gavin asks, spreading his arms and giving a little twirl for Jeremy. Jeremy coughs and adjusts his tie, nervously swivelling side-to-side in his office chair as his eyes trail over Gavin, trying to pick out any noticeable bulges in his suit. 

“Underarm,” he says slowly. “Right arm. Pistol.” 

Gavon nods and crosses his arms. 

“B-Back? Uzi?” 

Gavin nods again, impressed. Ryan murmurs approvingly in his ear. 

Jeremy takes longer with his next guess, leaning forward and scrutinising Gavin, tilting his head. He’s not allowed to get up from the chair. 

“Inner - thigh? Left?” Jeremy says, peering closely at Gavin’s thigh. “Handgun? Or - knife?” 

“No that’s actually just my massive testicles,” Gavin says dryly, and busts up laughing at the sheer  _ embarrassment _ on Jeremy’s face, red as a tomato as he looks away with a mumbled, flustered apology. 

“You’re terrible,” Ryan laughs in Gavin’s ear, and Gavin snorts. 

“I’m kidding, Jeremy,” he says, bending his knee out to pull the trouser leg tight around his thigh, showing the outline of the knife better. “Jeremy, look, promise I’m not hung like a damn stallion.” 

Jeremy does look, still flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, and coughs, nodding but still refusing to meet Gavin’s eyes. 

“You’re fucking awful,” he mutters, but there’s a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth that Gavin wants to see bloom. 

“Caught you off-guard though, didn’t it?” Gavin jokes, letting go of his trousers. He smiles crookedly, biting his lip to stifle his own giggles at the sound of Ryan cracking up in his ear. 

“Sure did,” Jeremy agrees, slapping his hands against his thighs and leaning back in the chair. “I’ll be sure to watch out for any fuckin’ - hung targets.” 

He breaks into a grin at Gavin’s new bout of laughter, the sort that makes him breathless and a certain type of giddy he chalks up to the sight of Jeremy chuckling along with him. 

“All right, your turn,” Gavin says, glancing up at the booth above them. He turns back to Jeremy with a wink. 

“Now ‘im you might have to check for that,” he teases, and Jeremy goes bright red all over again. 

\-- 

Ryan wishes Jeremy goodbye and bundles out of the office with Gavin, one hand carefully on Gavin’s elbow but itching to slide lower, to wrap around his waist and press together, but he restrains himself. They’re not even off their  _ floor _ yet. 

He waits until they’re walking to their car, the sun still up, if low on the horizon, and a warm breeze snaking through the city. Then, while Gavin’s chatting aimlessly, Ryan allows himself to wrap his arm around Gavin’s waist, right where his suit tucks in, and bury his face in Gavin’s hair to make him giggle. 

“So what’s got you all happy?” Ryan asks, affectionately squeezing Gavin when Gavin giggles again, sneaking a hand into Ryan’s pocket to press the car keys. 

“Just things, innit?” Gavin replies cryptically. “It’s been lovely the past few weeks.” 

“Mm, it  _ has _ ,” Ryan agrees. He grins a little, both of them halting before they enter the car, too reluctant to let go of each other. “You quite like Jeremy, don’t you?” 

“Oh come off it, Ryan,” Gavin says, but he’s still smiling, his fingers curling into the edge of Ryan’s suit jacket. “He’s nice, is all. I like workin’ with ‘im.” 

“Mhmm,” Ryan hums, dropping a kiss to Gavin’s head. “I’m sure you do.” 

“You’re bloody terrible, you are.” 

“Yep,” Ryan agrees. He hesitates before pressing his mouth to Gavin’s hair again, turning him in his arms to rest their foreheads together. 

“I like him as well,” he says quietly, and Gavin beams like the sun under him, leaning in to nudge their noses together, and Ryan can’t help smiling at him. 

“We’ll talk later, yeah?” Gavin asks. Ryan nods, grips Gavin’s arms to kiss him sweetly. 

“Yeah,” he promises. 

\-- 

“So, Jeremy,” Gavin says, flopping down on the sofa beside Ryan. 

“Get right to it, don’t you?” Ryan teases, kicking his legs out to reach over and drag Gavin in, curling his arms around him with a contented hum. The remains of dessert are still on the coffee table. 

“Shut up,” Gavin says, tangling a leg between Ryan’s. “Jeremy. He’s nice.” 

“He is.” 

Gavin falls silent for a minute, clearly trying to think the words over in his head, his hands fluttering restlessly in his lap. Ryan tips up his chin with a finger to look him in the eye. 

“Do you want to ask him to dinner?” Ryan asks quietly. “With us?”

“I’d like that,” Gavin admits, reaching up to take Ryan’s hand in his. “I like him, Ryan.” 

“I like him, too,” Ryan says, brushing a thumb over Gavin’s knuckles. “He works well with us. More than just professionally.” 

“You think he’s interested?” 

“He’s definitely interested in you,” Ryan replies, grinning a little at Gavin’s flush. “And I’m definitely interested in him.” 

“He likes you too, you ponce,” Gavin says, poking Ryan’s arm. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

“If you say so,” Ryan teases back, leaning in to kiss Gavin. But Gavin really is sharper than he seems sometimes, so Ryan’ll trust him on this. 

Gavin hasn’t failed him yet. 

\-- 

Gavin’s favourite part of all this, though, has to be the training missions they set up for Jeremy. 

They’re simple enough, set in the agency’s underground training areas - a broad expanse of rooms with various settings in them, and all with a camera room to watch and guide, simulating a real mission as best they can. Enemies can either be volunteers from within the agency who had an hour to spare firing paintballs at testing agents, or robotic traps. 

“Jeremy, to your left,” Gavin says into the comms, tracking Jeremy’s movement through hidden cameras. “Guard just up ahead.” 

“I heard movement,” Jeremy says, falling back to crouch in a corner. “To the right.” 

“It’s clear,” Gavin insists, clicking through video feeds to confirm it. “Just the guy to the left.” 

“There’s somebody else there,” Jeremy hisses, creeping up to the doorway. “I heard them.” 

“There isn’t, Jeremy.” 

“I promise you there is.” 

And then Jeremy steps around the corner and aims to the  _ right _ first - aims directly at the empty corner under the stairwell and a paintball hits him square in the middle of his back. Gavin sighs and flips the lights back on, doorways unsealing as the “enemy” agent apologises to Jeremy. 

“Really should trust me more, Lil J,” Gavin says when Jeremy’s walking back to the entrance. 

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, defeated. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Gavin replies, but Jeremy still looks a little dejected in the camera. “Hey, Jeremy, promise. It’s okay, you’re still new.” 

“Still fucked it up.” 

“It’s only been a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of it,” Gavin promises, searching for words to try and wipe that look off Jeremy’s face. “Honest, it took me a while to rely on Ryan.” 

“Really? But you two seem so - in-sync.” 

“Well we are  _ now _ , it’s been years,” Gavin replies. “But when we first started I barely trusted him to guide me around the maze. Thought he’d bloody send me off into lasers all the damn time.” Ah, the maze, another tricky training room. 

“But he didn’t?” 

“No. Got me through with top marks, he did. Almost flawless.” 

“Wow,” Jeremy breathes, looking a little calmer. 

“No worries, we’ll soon get you up to flawless as well,” Gavin says with a smile as he resets the room. “You want lower difficulty?” 

“No,” Jeremy says, rolling his shoulders back and readying his pistol. “Same difficulty.” 

Gavin grins and dims the lights. 

\-- 

Gavin and Ryan certainly put Jeremy through his paces with the field training rooms, putting him in every position imaginable - offence, defence, camera guy - in any situation they can dream up, from the maze room to the suburban house room. Harder objectives, less weapons, more guards, more traps, and gradually Jeremy works his way through the more difficult rooms with ease. 

“Left - right! Laser above your head, duck a little,” Gavin says, rapidly flicking between normal cameras and infrared cameras to see the lasers dotted about the maze room - one mistake and they’ll “blow up”; in the room, they merely puff out a bit of smoke and cancel the simulation. 

“Can I touch this wall?” Jeremy asks quietly, gesturing to one. Gavin switches over, finds that wall riddled with lasers running parallel over it. 

“No, but one ahead is safe - there’s a couple lasers in front of your feet.” 

“How high?” Jeremy lifts his foot. 

“That’s good - now slow, careful. Only a couple more turns to go.” 

“This wall?” 

“Safe. Turn right, there’s a laser diagonal.” 

“Where?” 

“Top left to bottom right, crouch to left and shimmy under - that’s good, just like that.” 

“I can see the target.” 

“Don’t shoot yet, get closer, there’s a tangle of lasers there. Left, stick to the far left.” 

“Can I shoot now?” 

“Now.” 

And the paper target goes down with a bullet hole right in bullseye - Jeremy cheers loudly and Gavin turns the simulation off, the lights brightening again as Jeremy whoops triumphantly and looks up at Gavin’s camera with a smile and a thumbs-up that makes butterflies flutter in Gavin’s chest. 

Gavin grins to himself and hopes the butterflies never land. 

\-- 

Putting Jeremy  _ behind _ the cameras is a bit of a learning curve for him, Gavin’ll admit, but once he gets the hang of it - of always being a step ahead, of what to look for and when - he’s brilliant at it. Gavin and Ryan test him with one agent to watch, with two agents to watch, with different entrances and exits and he guides them all beautifully, even if he stutters a bit occasionally. 

The training rooms smooth things together for them in a way nothing else really does, except maybe an actual field mission. But here, in the safety of the agency, it builds a sort of foolhardy trust between them all that only solidifies the more they train, soon forgoing deskwork to run Jeremy through rooms at the highest difficulty. Gavin doesn’t envy his paintball bruises. 

By the end of the month, Jeremy passes all the rooms with flying colours. 

“You think he’s ready for the field?” Gavin murmurs, dropping a hand to rest on Ryan’s shoulder. 

“Guard around the right corner, just turned away from you,” Ryan says into his comm, then clicks the mic off. 

“I think he’s more than ready,” he says, reaching up to squeeze Gavin’s hand as they watch Jeremy “strangle” Alfredo on camera six. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan gets the file the morning after he talks to Morris. She immediately gives them the go ahead trusting in their judgement without asking Jeremy to pass the usual final test. Admittedly, there’ll be hell to pay if they do this too quickly and cause problems, but Ryan knows that both he and Gavin are confident in Jeremy. Besides, there’s only so much he can learn here at the base; sooner or later, he has to put his skills to the test, so why not now?

When they meet in the office - Gavin went ahead while Ryan collected the file - Ryan slaps the folder down on Jeremy’s desk with a grin. Jeremy frowns for a moment as he draws it closer, his fingers tracing the codename on the front. “What’s this?”

“Your first job,” Ryan says, dropping into his own chair. “Go ahead, check it out.”

“Ooh, where are you going?” Gavin moves closer, hovering over his shoulder to peek.

“Colorado.” Jeremy looks a little pale as he drags it closer, thumbing the edge of the folder. “You really think I’m ready for this?” He glances up at them, his gaze shifting from Gavin to Ryan. “What if something goes wrong? I can’t just reset and try again.”

Ryan nods towards the file again. “I’ll be out there with you, and Gav’s gonna be on comms. You won’t be alone, Jeremy.” He rolls his chair closer, enough that he can lay a hand on Jeremy’s arm and squeeze. “You wouldn’t have that file now if we thought you weren’t ready.”

Their confidence seems to get through to Jeremy then. He casts another wary look between the two of them, taking in Gavin’s smile and Ryan’s encouraging nod, and he eventually lets out a long exhale. Jeremy straightens up in his seat and tugs the file closer. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.” He pauses. “What am I doing?”

As Ryan scoots himself closer, Gavin fits in to lean against his shoulder. Ryan flips the file open to the first page, and he taps at the names listed there. “Two targets-”

_“Two?”_

“Shush, Jeremy, let Ryan explain.”

“Two targets,” Ryan continues, “but I’ll take one of them. I’ll give you time to read and figure out which one you wanna take.”

“No need to panic,” Gavin adds, laying a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder to give it a comforting pat. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got us!”

* * *

Ryan’s target goes down fast, and that’s exactly how he wants it today. The compound in Colorado is spread out across farmland, with training areas set up in the fields near what was probably quite a lovely home at one point. It’s a dull and gloomy evening, though Ryan ignores the fine, misty rain for the most part - sure, it means that vigilant guards are less likely to notice him, but it means that his own visibility is poor, too.

Besides, his main focus has been listening to Gavin and Jeremy.

They’re all on the same line of communication for the sake of ease and comfort. It means that Gavin is stretched a little thin while he watches over them both, but Ryan knows that he’s more than capable, and hearing both Jeremy and Gavin on the other end is enough to soothe any jitters that Ryan had before flying out.

He and Jeremy came in at different points, their own plans in mind for each target; he knows he’s the first to succeed here, but it’s not exactly a surprise. Ryan has years of experience behind him, after all, and with just a few directions from Gavin he finds his target and garrotes him with the wire in his pocket. It’s almost painfully boring - Ryan would much prefer to get creative - but he has Jeremy to think about.

 _“Nicely done, Ryan,”_ Gavin says. _“How’re you getting on, Jeremy?”_

 _“Uh.”_ There’s a long pause. Ryan hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, the sound made crackly by the static of the comms. _“I can see the target, but I don’t think I can get close enough like this. Might need another disguise.”_

“Where are you?” Ryan murmurs. He backs up against a wall, ducking his head in the hope that he can blend in as a casual guard. He’s got the outfit, he has the gun on his back - all he needs is for people to move right past him.

_“Near the barn. You know, with the training range? My guy’s inside. I already got turned away dressed like this, I’m probably gonna need to get an officer’s outfit or something higher ranking.”_

Ryan hums thoughtfully. “Or,” he says, “you could go lower. Get something like a mechanic. Sometimes, you gotta slip under the radar, remember?”

 _“Huh,”_ Jeremy huffs, surprised. _“Yeah, you’re right. There’s some right here.”_

 _“I’ll watch your back,”_ Gavin assures him. Ryan can almost hear the smile in his voice. _“Ryan, you can start making your way towards the barn, if you like.”_

 _“Oh, I see,”_ Jeremy says, and at first Ryan thinks he’s getting upset for some reason, but then he quickly realises that Jeremy’s teasing. His heart jumps in his chest and he works hard to suppress a smile. _“Just in case I fuck up, huh? Gotta send Ryan in to save me.”_

Ryan bites the inside of his cheek to try and keep a straight face. He pushes off from the wall to head over to the barn, peering at the shape of it through the mist. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t want backup? I can turn around…”

_“No! Ryan, please, c’mon.”_

Gavin’s giggling in his ear now as well. It makes it so much harder to remain neutral. _“Maybe if you weren’t such a smartarse, Jeremy-”_

As a guard glances his way, Ryan ducks into one of the little wooden buildings so he can finally grin. It takes a lot to actually stop himself from laughing, especially with Gavin cracking up on the other end of the comms, but he forces out a few slow breaths and squashes the urge to break out into giggles. Admittedly, it’s not the first time Ryan’s had to hide away for a moment; he can’t count the amount of times Gavin has started joking around on the comms, and then there’s the rare handful of times that things went in a very _different_ direction.

“I’m coming, Jeremy,” Ryan promises, stepping out into the open again. “Relax. Grab your outfit, and I’ll join you in there.”

He doesn’t see Jeremy right away when he arrives, which is a very _good_ thing. If it takes Ryan a second to spot his partner out here, then Jeremy has clearly taken everything on board. It’s reassuring to see the proof of his hard work right here.

Unlike Jeremy, though, Ryan doesn’t have a problem slipping into the barn. He merely nods at another guard as he passes, walking with confidence and his head held high - that kind of walk was something hard to master at first, especially when Ryan knows he shouldn’t be here at all, but it’s an incredibly useful skill to have. Maybe it’s something Jeremy just doesn’t quite have the hang of yet. It’ll come in time.

Just as Ryan’s making himself at home, walking along a made up patrol route, he sees Jeremy enter. He comes in through the less busy back door; the guard there waves him on in when he sees Jeremy’s navy mechanic overalls. Ryan keeps watch, hoping he looks more lazily curious than actively interested.

 _“Alright, Ryan’s in with you,”_ Gavin says to them both. _“Your target looks like he’s heading into the back, so you might be able to follow him- Oh! Yes, definitely, there’s a generator-”_

 _“On it.”_ Jeremy immediately ducks out of sight, behind the screen that makes up the backdrop for whatever situation is running for training.

As much as Ryan desperately wants to see Jeremy in action, he hangs back. He’ll have to listen instead - both on the comms and close by - for any hint about what might be happening back there. Ryan forces his gaze to wander around the room, reading it for anything that might be concerning, and he already starts looking for ways they can escape. Once the mission is complete, it’s always the same: get out as quickly as possible.

Jeremy emerges a moment later, and he quickly ducks out through the same door. Ryan hears him laugh briefly with the guard before he heads out.

 _“Done,”_ he says in Ryan’s ear, seconds later.

Ryan takes that as his cue. He leaves through a different exit, only to meet up with Jeremy at the dirt track leading away from the farm.

Jeremy offers him a shy smile as Ryan approaches. “How did I do?”

“Amazing,” Ryan assures him. He swings an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder as they walk away, a proud grin forcing its way onto Ryan’s face. He’s pretty sure he couldn’t wipe it away even if he wanted to. “Seriously, Jeremy, that was great work.”

 _“Bloody brilliant,”_ Gavin echoes. _“Almost smoother than Ryan.”_

“Hey! Come on, we can’t all be you, Gavin.”

Next to him, Jeremy flushes as Gavin laughs, and Ryan feels something warm and content settle in his chest.

* * *

“So, today went well.”

_“Really bloody well.”_

Ryan huffs as he sits on the edge of his hotel room bed, his laptop propped up on the nearby table. Gavin’s at home on the other end, a cheeky smile on his face as Ryan undresses and unwinds from the day in front of the camera. There’s an appreciative whistle as Ryan tugs his shirt off, and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re insatiable,” Ryan teases.

Gavin laughs, unashamed of being caught out. _“Listen, if you had spent all day watching two attractive men do all that work…”_

“Uh huh.” Ryan raises his eyebrows, a doubtful look on his face. “I’m pretty sure it’s just because you can’t go two days without doing something sexual-”

_“You don’t exactly complain, do you, love?”_

Ryan tilts his head then, conceding Gavin’s point. There’s an amused little smile on his lips now as well. “Okay, fair.”

_“Damn right it’s fair! Maybe I just wanted to see my boyfriend? Bit presumptuous of you to think I wanna do somethin’.”_

He glances at the camera again. “Do you?”

Gavin shifts a little bit on the other end, a flush stealing across his cheeks. _“Maybe,”_ he admits, and Ryan can’t help laughing a little at how pouty Gavin is. _“I did actually want to talk about Jeremy, though. Where is he?”_

“The ICA set us up with separate rooms.” It’s not an uncommon thing. On the rare occasion he and Gavin have been out in the field together before, it’s been the same - they just never actually _used_ that second room. Ryan sits up, wiggling out of his combat pants and sighing with relief when he flops back on the bed in just his underwear. “I think he’s next door.”

 _“Shame,”_ Gavin hums. _“Could’ve asked him out.”_

Ryan raises his head again, enough that he can frown at the screen. “Gavin, you’re not getting out of a serious conversation that easily. I’m not letting you hide behind me over something as important as this.”

 _“Ryan,”_ he whines.

“Nope.” He settles back again, stretching lazily as Gavin huffs at him. His muscles ache from spending so much of the day crouched and tense, but Ryan knows it’ll ease after a hot shower and a good rest. When he turns his head, he spots Gavin eyeing him up again - and, well, maybe there’s a _third_ way to relax.

Ryan slides his hand south, idly palming himself through his underwear, and Gavin sucks in a quick breath. _“Sure you’re not too tired, love?”_

He grins and rocks up into his hand, watching the way Gavin stares at him hungrily. “For you? Never.”

* * *

Ryan doesn’t say anything until they’re home from Colorado. He stays silent at the airport, even though Gavin is there to greet and congratulate them. He remains patient, biding his time until they meet again in their little office after the couple of rest days the ICA grants them.

Admittedly, it’s nice to just relax at home for a while, and Ryan takes the opportunity to check in with Gavin. To his relief, Gavin’s stance hasn’t changed, even though he still grumbles about _bloody serious conversations._

As usual, Jeremy’s at the office before them. He has their coffees waiting on their desks, and he spins to beam at Ryan and Gavin as they enter.

“Hey!” Jeremy says. He looks like he’s still riding the high of a successful job, almost buzzing in his seat, and Ryan really can’t blame him. While it’s routine to him and Gavin by now, he still remembers the rush after every mission back when he started. It’s intoxicating, _addictive._

“Hey, Jeremy,” Ryan greets, waving from the doorway as Gavin makes a beeline for his coffee. “How was your weekend?”

“Eh, not bad.” Jeremy shrugs, idly swinging his chair back and forth. “So, what’re we doing today? Do we have another job yet?”

“Not yet,” Gavin says, rolling his chair over to pat Jeremy’s shoulder. “Just paperwork and bits today, really, nothing very exciting. Routine things. Always gotta be done after a mission, just to keep shit tidy. It’ll be a bit before we actually get another one.”

Jeremy deflates a little, but the excitement from Colorado bubbles up in him again quickly and brings the smile back to his face. “Alright. Where do we start?”

Ryan decides to interrupt then and bring up what Gavin is probably trying to skirt around. He _knows_ Gavin is excited and interested, and he’s fine once things are comfortable - but Ryan can see that he’s already getting jittery, and he wants to ease that as soon as possible, if he can. Gavin shoots him a nervous little look while Jeremy is facing his computer, and it’s all the confirmation Ryan needs.

He clears his throat, drawing Jeremy’s attention back. “Actually, before we get started, we wanted to ask you something.”

Jeremy freezes, his eyes wide. “Have I done something wrong?”

“What? No!” Gavin squeezes his arm again and smiles at him. “No, of course not, not at all.”

“It’s, uh, something more personal,” Ryan admits. He can feel his cheeks growing redder by the second, but he ignores the heat creeping up the back of his neck. “And you can feel free to say no, we won’t let it change anything here.”

“We just thought, hell, we’d give it a try,” Gavin adds. Admittedly, Ryan is a little surprised that he spoke up - and he’s making this sound rehearsed, when that really isn’t the case - but it bolsters his confidence a little more anyway.

Jeremy glances between the two of them, looking uncertain. He seems reassured after finding out he’s not in trouble, though he’s still understandably confused. “Uh…?”

Gavin goes quiet again; Ryan gives him a beat in case he wants to say it, but when there’s only silence, Ryan bites the bullet. “We wanted to ask you to dinner,” he says, holding Jeremy’s gaze.

There’s another short silence. Ryan holds his breath and Gavin is still next to him; Jeremy blinks at them, his features blank with pure surprise. “I… Both of you?”

“Both of us,” Gavin confirms, nodding slowly. “Doesn’t have to be fancy if you don’t want it to be.”

Jeremy settles back in his chair, and Gavin withdraws his hand as he takes time to think. The fact that he hasn’t shot them down immediately is encouraging, though Ryan is fully prepared to face a rejection. They should’ve done this at the end of the work day, he thinks, realising now how _awkward_ it’ll be for all three of them to sit in the same room, trapped working together in close quarters-

“I’d love to.”

Ryan releases his breath and his anxieties with a heavy huff, a smile already spreading across his face. “Yeah?”

Jeremy grins at them both. _“Fuck_ yeah. Are you kidding me? I’ve had a thing for you guys since day one. I didn’t say anything ‘cause I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Christ,” Gavin groans, dropping his head into his hands. “That’s a relief, but _Christ._ We’re idiots.”

Gently, Ryan squeezes his shoulder. “Nah,” he says, moving away to sit down at his desk. “Took a little time, sure, but that’s okay. It was probably better not to rush things anyway.” He leans forward, looking past Gavin to see Jeremy. “How does tonight after work sound?”

An adorable pink flush lights up Jeremy’s cheeks. Ryan’s stomach swoops at the sight. “Sounds good!”

As Gavin suggested, it turns out not to be very fancy. Ryan was hoping he could treat Gavin and Jeremy to something nice, though admittedly getting takeaway on the way back to their place is a nice, comfortable option after a long day of hunching over their desks. Sure, they’re still dressed up in their suits for work, but the moment they get home Gavin is the first to rip off his tie and jacket with a sigh. He collapses dramatically on the couch, wiggling to get comfortable.

“Make yourself at home,” Ryan says to Jeremy, rolling his eyes at Gavin’s antics. “Feel free to shove Gavin to make room.”

“Oi!”

“Noted,” Jeremy replies, laughing.

By the time Ryan joins them with their food, he realises that Jeremy really has taken that advice to heart. His jacket and tie are gone too, and he’s unbuttoned his shirt; he’s wearing a t-shirt underneath, and he’s already smiling as he and Gavin look for something to watch on TV. Ryan’s heart swells at the sight.

He fits himself in on Jeremy’s other side and gives him a friendly nudge as he sets the bag of food down. Jeremy offers him a warm smile, and then he breaks out into laughter again when Gavin deliberately leans across him for the food. “Gavin, buddy, you’re in my lap. I need room for my plate.”

“Tragic,” Gavin says, already elbow deep in the bag. “Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, won’t you, Jeremy?”

“You can still shove him,” Ryan adds helpfully, reaching out for plates.

“It’s tempting,” Jeremy admits. _“Very_ tempting.”

Gavin goes still on his lap, one hand still on food and the other ready to take a plate from Ryan. “Don’t you dare, Jeremy.”

Jeremy doesn’t, in fact, push him off of his lap - though Ryan does lean over to make him give Jeremy room. Their laughter bubbles up over the background noise of the TV as they settle in to eat, pressed side to side and bumping elbows playfully. Here, in the bubble of their apartment, everything else fades away, and Ryan basks in the warmth from the other two.

He never felt like he and Gavin _needed_ another person in their lives, but Jeremy? He’s the third piece of their little puzzle.


End file.
